Finding Me, Finding You
by The Fabulous Miss Crimaldi
Summary: Financier & action man Will Traynor leads a big life from attracting tall, leggy blondes to extreme sports! But he soon begins dreaming of an alternate reality that leaves him discontent with his current life and swearing off leggy blondes for good. He sets out to find the mysterious woman from his dreams whose stolen his head and heart and whose name is Louisa Clark.
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER ONE**

I was awoken suddenly by the first pounce on my right shoulder immediately followed by a second on my left shoulder. I let out a surprised "uh" as my mattress sunk then quickly sprang back to position. My eyes flashed wide open. The streaming sunlight from the window beside the bed blinded me momentarily, Stortford Castle glimmering in its background.

Two giggling, little girls nestled their heads against the sides of my neck, their soft hair grazing my cheeks. I watched closely, one eyebrow raised with a playfully inquisitive glare, as they each lifted an arm and wrapped it around themselves, although I felt no sensation of their movement or the weight of their bodies. In fact, I felt nothing below my shoulders but for 2 fingers on my right hand.

The older girl on my right, 6 years old, slipped her little fingers through mine.

I squeezed them with the fingers I could move. She lifted her head and stared in my eyes with the sweetest smile revealing a pair of dimples I couldn't help but recogize. She was a mirror image of me. I grinned and rested my cheek on her head.

From across the room I heard a panicked voice. "Girls," Clarke pleaded, "What's the rule?" There in the doorway stood a 5'2" petite-framed beauty, her long dark hair in a single braid that draped across her shoulder, a bright red and white striped long sleeved t-shirt that hugged her small but full breasts and a white, loud patterned nautical knee-length skirt with red anchors and blue fish that accentuated her size 4 waist. She always argued that if I wasn't in a wheelchair, I would have never noticed her. "One of the invisibles" she called herself. She said I would have been too busy looking at the tall, leggy blondes, the ones who could smell an expense account from forty paces. My only defense was calling myself an arse. At least I was being completely honest. And to think I lived a big life back then.

Caught! The 3 of us fell silent. We bit our lips, glancing at each other. She remained in the doorway and blinked her eyes, her mouth open, waiting for a reply. Then without hesitation we broke into a fit of laughter and in unison stated, "BE CAREFUL WITH DAD!" I kissed my girls' heads. Still laughing I offered her the solace she desired, "I'm fine, Clarke! Really." "Better be," she responded, still not believing me. In a serious tone, I reiterated, "Really. The girls did NOT jump on me." Her blueberry eyes still filled with concern staring directly at me knowing I was lying and covering for our girls because she knew me that well. Her response was totally Clarke – a pair of the most expressive eyebrows telling me I was full of it.

I waited until I heard Clarke leave the doorway, her footsteps further and further away. I whispered into my older girl's ear, "Mum's right. No more jumping on Dad to wake him up, ok? Charley?" She nodded yes. I turned my head toward my 4 year old and gently asked, " And you, Willow?" Willow raised her head and planted a kiss on my cheek. "Love you, Dad" she gently whispered back. "Ummmmm ... can ... can Charley switch places with me?" The older girl confidently said no, looking up at me with a mercurial smile that I immediately returned to her." "Why not? You always hog Dad's good hand!" Willow cried. "Because I'm the oldest!" Charley replied unyielding. "What does that have to do with anything?" the younger questioned with a tinge of absurdity. "Because I'm Dad's favorite!" flew out of Charley's mouth matter of fact. Willow, an exact replica of her mother, sat up appalled. She blinked her eyes and her mouth fell open in disbelief. I roared with laughter. The Traynor girls were competitive like this, and I'd dare anyone to accuse them of being boring. I composed myself and in a soft voice uttered, "Charlotte Grace, switch sides with your sister, please." Charley did as I asked. She was always agreeable like that, at least to me. But before she got up, she added, "Only if you sing." "Is this a negotiation, young lady?" I quipped. She giggled yes, and I couldn't help but agree to her terms. She unwillingly switched sides with her sister. And so I started: I wi-li-lished I li-lived in a Molahonkey la-la-land …"We lay snuggled for the next half hour as the smell of pancakes began to waffle through the air.

I love my life. I really love my life.

* * *

I wi-li-lished I li-li-lived in Molahonkey la-lal-land

The la-la-land where I li-li was bo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lorn

So I li-li-could play-la-lay my o-lo-lold banjo-lo-lo

"Jesus Christ, Will! Wake up! What's wrong with you?" Alicia exclaimed. "You sound God-awful!"

I opened my eyes. Disoriented, I saw Alicia standing next to my bed, staring with a horrified look.

**Reviews are welcome! Alternate ending to Me Before You, Chapter Three! Thanks for spending some time in my world of creativity. **


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

"What?" I cried out in disbelief as I began stretching my arms.

You were singing some dreadful song in your sleep, Will!" Alicia repeated.

"What time is it?" I asked as I sat up and saw the sun starting to rise in the horizon.

"It's 6:30."

"Oh God, I overslept, Lissa. Why didn't you wake me? You know I had to be up early today for a call from Singapore?"

"I have a busy day myself, Will. I can't look after you. I have my spin class at 7. Then I need to be back here showered and dressed for my meeting across town with other buyers at 9:30. Really, Will? What do you pay that secretary of yours for if she can't call and wake you?

"That's not her job." I insisted, defending my very competent and loyal assistant. "Gwen goes above and beyond for me every day. Her husband's been sick, and she earns her keep. I'm not going to ask her to get up at 5am for me too."

"Well. You should." Alicia was emphatic. And heartless. I had told her about Gwen's husband, a diabetic, who had been sick and in and out of hospitals over the course of a year and a half. I inherited her from a retiring member of the company after my own secretary left to live across the pond almost 3 years ago. Her husband's condition had severely worsened over time, and this year alone he had another 2 fingers amputated. I would be remiss if I said Gwen disliked Alicia. Gwen detested her. As the mother of 2 adult sons, she often offered her motherly advice to me, especially when it came to Lissa. "Will Traynor, you can do better than that hot piece of mess!" she said. Bitchy. Demanding. Spiteful. Nasty. Catty. Immature. Snobbish. Witch. These were all words she openly used to describe Alicia since we started dating 9 months ago. And, she took immense enjoyment in imitating Alicia, a coping mechanism she employed to stomach Alicia whenever she would call or visit. Her imitation was never more flawless than the time Alicia showed up at my work after having lip filler injections one morning, lips swollen and unable to talk or smile. I never reprimanded Gwen for that. Perhaps she was spot on about Alicia being unlikable. This morning was one of those times.

I sometimes wondered why I was with Alicia. She was gorgeous and sexy and good in bed. Ok, she was gorgeous and sexy and good in bed. I couldn't think of any redeeming qualities in her though. She was a high society girl and liked good wine, clothes, vacations, extravagant gifts and everything money could buy. She liked being treated like a prize and shown off, the same as I did around her circle of friends and colleagues. I was the envy of all men, and I didn't mind the attention of her girlfriends fawning all over me either.

Alicia finished dressing for her cycling class. She slipped on her athletic shoes when I asked," What was it I was singing in my sleep anyway?"

She began fiddling around in her bag for her car keys. Half distracted she responded, "You were singing …. Singing the word Mola … Mola ... Oh, what was it? Damn, where are my keys? Molahonkey. Yes, Molahokey, it was. You sounded ridiculous. It sounded like a children's lullaby."

I hesitated for a moment. Then I remembered the two little girls from my dream. "Yeah," I sighed. "I remember now. In my dream I had 2 little daughters, and I was singing to them …"

Alicia cut me off. "Oh Will, don't get any ideas!" she shouted appalled at the mention of children. "I'm not ready for that. I finally got my body to the exact weight I want. And my career. I can't even think about having children, maybe not until years."

I raised an eyebrow at her. How didn't I see it before? Gwen was right. She was, in one word, scathing. I never mentioned having children, let alone children with her. I continued," And I was paralyzed and in a wheelchair ..."

Alicia interrupted once again. She cried, "Oh now that's just morbid, Will!" Finally finding her keys, she hurriedly shouted, "No more talk of children or wheelchairs. I gotta go. I gotta or I'm going to be late." She opened the door and was gone.

After Alicia left, I lay in bed for the next few minutes, checked my emails and voicemails, and reviewed the financial data for my Singapore phone call. But I couldn't get that dream out of my head. First, there was the image of Stortfold Castle from an angle not of any view of Granta House that I knew. Then there was the love of a parent for his children I never knew could be so deep and defining. And finally the woman I called Clarke, probably because she subconsciously reminded me a little bit of that actress from Game of Thornes. But she knew me better than I knew myself, and I had never felt a love so powerful and strong.


	3. Chapter 3

**A note from the author: **

**I hope everyone enjoys this chapter. This is an alternate ending of the novel plus a dream within my own story. I've incorporated some famous lines as well as cadence from the movie and novel. I hope everyone enjoys! **

**CHAPTER THREE**

I was in pain. Real physical pain, which is ironic because I thought I knew what pain was. It was only 2 years ago that my accident took place, and yet I felt I had suffered a lifetime of pneumonia, burning limbs, constant tiredness, and a whole host of other ailments. The anguish I experienced every morning at the realization I was trapped in this damn chair, dependent on others and the fear of my condition worsening was now far outdone by the self-loathing, regret and guilt I felt for hurting Clarke last night. I didn't just disappoint her, I destroyed her. On the final evening of our holiday together, she had confessed her love to me, and all I could tell her was that my world, even with her in it, was not enough and that I was going ahead with my plans to end my life. This wasn't my finest hour but rather my worst.

The one thing I did know was that I couldn't stand her coldness towards me, her inability to look at me, and her insistence that I should not speak to her as we departed from the hotel that morning. I could hardly bear it. Her iciness continued on our plane ride home. I had succeeded in driving away my only reason for getting up in the mornings. The truth is she was the sole reason for giving me the best 6 months of my life. I have to admit, from the moment she ran off last night, I became conflicted.

Life had dealt me a cruel, cruel blow. How could I continue to live like this when I had lived a big life? I traveled the world. I had big adventures and loved extreme sports just as much as I loved women and loved sex. Lots of sex. I loved my job. I got just as much adrenaline from bringing businesses to the brink and buying and selling them for profit as I had from jumping from tall cliffs. How could I be a man who could accept my life as it was now? On the other hand, was I being fair to my loved ones by insisting that I was a burden on them, that the world would be a better place without me?

And then there was Clarke. Louisa Clarke. Scored on my heart. I couldn't stand the thought of her resenting or pitying me one day or missing out on a full life because of my limitations. The thought of not being able to do what I wanted to her, of seeing her prancing around the annex or seeing her naked and not be able to ravage her, tormented me. It was a sharp, miserable and aching pain that began several months ago after I accompanied her to the wind concerto. She looked stunning in that red dress, her hair long and wavy like the Hollywood actresses of the 1940s, her red lips plump and kissable, her breasts on display in the ever most tasteful way that gave a man enough to admire but long to see more. When she removed the tag from my collar with her lips, I had never been so aroused. I was bewitched, captivated, spellbound. That night as we sat outside the annex, I was lost in my own thoughts. As Clarke sat beside me, she had no idea the things I wanted to do to her. So I suffered in silence and have been since. I had convinced myself that she would be missing out on life if she stayed with me. How could I ask her to do that? It was unfair to her. I told her as much last night and broke her heart. But despite telling her that someone else could give her a better life in every way than I could, I was jealous of that man who would. I hated him. I hated him with all of my being. I hated the thought of him kissing her. I hated the thought of him ravaging her. I hated the thought of him fathering her children. The very notion made my head throb and heart pound in unison. I was being completely irrational, but as much as I was afflicted by this stupid chair, I was also afflicted by lust and by jealousy of a lover who didn't even exist.

Was I a selfish man? A selfless man? Or, just a complete arse?

I closed my eyes pretending to sleep, all the while wrestling with my dilemma, hating myself for breaking Louisa's heart. It was a relief when I felt her fingers gently stroke my hair away from my eyes. She felt my cheek for the coolness of my skin, and in that instant I kissed her hand and stared into her sad eyes. I could tell she had been crying on the plane. "Louisa, please talk to me," I softly pleaded. She looked around at the other passengers then knelt in front of me. I held her gaze and lifted my thumb and index fingers gesturing her to take my hand. She obliged my request.

"Will, are you still going to Switzerland?" she asked expecting the worst.

"I… I am ..," my voice lingering. Turning her eyes from me, Louisa started to release my hand, but with all my strength I tightened my hold. "I am conflicted."

She raised her eyes up at me in surprise. "Conflicted?" She began to smile. "Now that's better."

"Clarke, don't read too much into this. It's not a yes. It's a pause."

"But it's not a no either,'" she cooed.

"I have a lot of concerns."

"Ok," Louisa agreed, "But what made you rethink things? Was it something I said?"

I was firm when I answered. "It was not." After the words immediately left my lips, I felt my face flush and turned toward the widow to compose myself, although I was sure my crimson face already caught Louisa's attention.

"Will?" The same wild, electrified look in her eyes returned from last night before I broke her heart. She bit her lip and breathlessly whispered, "What was it then?"

I could not meet her eyes in fear I would expose my true feelings.

"Tell me," she giggled.

"No!" My eyes remained focused out the window, staring into the clouds. I thought my flushed face would have receded by now, but I could still feel her gaze upon me and felt even more flushed than before.

"No?"

"It is neither the time nor the place to talk about this." I had hoped she would drop it after that, but she pressed on giggling.

"Will Traynor, does it have to do with why you've turned beet red? Tell me."

Still unable to look at her, I kept my eyes closed but turned to face her and in a low voice stated, "I hate this chair. I hate this pain. I hate being sick, and I hate being tired."

"And? Go on. I know all this."

I opened my eyes and quickly blurted, "But, I MAY hate the idea of someone other than me being your lover more." There, it was out.

My admission made her gasp in delight. Beaming, she declared, "So it's as simple as that! Now is it?"

I shrugged. I sat silent before I spoke again, returning my gaze to her. "It's not that simple, Louisa. I still have a lot of concerns."

"OK," she indulged me, still beaming.

"Louisa, I'm serious. I don't want to be a burden on you. I couldn't live with myself if you were to resent or pity me one day. I meant it when I told you I want more for you and …"

"Will, please. Stop." she interrupted. "Those are your fears talking. And besides, I think you have me confused with those London girls you know. I'm not vapid like Alicia. I don't want to be with you for your family name or your bank account or Granta House or the fact you own an actual castle. I'm no opportunist. I'll remind you I paid my own way on this vacation. I insisted on it. I'm no average girl you know."

"No, you are not." I chuckled. "You're exquisite."

"So then why won't you give me a chance? Us a chance?" She continued, this time in a scolding voice. "And don't say no because you loved your life! I get it that you lived a remarkable life filled with world adventures, and extreme sports, and lots and lots of women, and big business deals. I get that you were popular and that every guy wanted to be you and every girl wanted you. But where are all these people now? I have been with you for 6 months and only your former best mate and ex-girlfriend dropped by to tell you they hooked up and were getting married." Her voice became tender. "I ... I have never felt as connected to anyone in my life as I do to you, Will. Can you say that about any of the people you knew from your old life? Was it really as remarkable a life as you remember compared to the meaningful relationship that we … we have?

I listened intently to her every word. I realized in that minute that she had a point. My old life was thrilling but incomplete, and I was surrounded by superficial the meaning of life trekking up a mountain or roaming the streets of Phuket? Was I settling for a woman like Alicia who only cared about status, money and popularity, a woman who obviously cared more about beating her sorority sisters down the aisle than the character of the man she was marrying? And could I curse Louisa with my own fate and allow her to wake every morning screaming in grief for the life I robbed her of? Was I that much of an arse to let this woman go again?

"Clarke, come. Sit on my lap." She rose to her feet and gently sat down. Staring into her eyes, I smiled. "You know I adore you, right?" She sat beaming. There it was – the smile that scorned my heart. I kissed her, and she kissed me back. This time I didn't pull away. Our lips lingered breathing one another in until she spoke.

"Will, so i was thinking. You are a brilliant man. You know you can do anything with your life. You can still crush businesses. Or, you can save them this time around. You can … oh, start a charity and fund research in spinal cord injuries, and develop amazing life-altering advancements. Or, I can hire you myself? I may be in need of a CEO and CFO?"

I gave her a confused sideways look." You what? You sound like a madwoman!"

Her eyebrows stood up, her head nodding and a ridiculous smile spread across her face. "You can be my CEO and CFO for my designer line of clothes?"

"Clothes?" She was mad.

"Well, you see, I've been doing some designing and sewing since my birthday."

"Ok, so what have you been designing and sewing?" I inquired although afraid of the answer.

"I'm developing a lingerie line for the ladies with boyfriends and husbands with spinal cord injuries. Lace, satin, silk and sheer nighties with spaghetti strap ties! Actually, I've kept in touch with Mary Rawlinson from the wedding, and she might be interested in selling them in her London boutique. A Louisa Clarke original!"

My interest was piqued. "And did you pair them with your bumblebee tights?"

"I did!" she cried.

"Oh dear God! So, when do I get to see these strappy clothes?"

"Well, you don't! Not if you go to Switzerland. They're for living men only."

"Then what do I need to do to see these gorgeous nighties?"

She placed both her hands around my neck and took her time gathering her words. "Make me the happiest woman in the world. Stay with me. Say yes, Will. Go on."

"Okay," I nodded. "Okay." I surrendered to her. And for the first time in 2 years, my pain subsided.

* * *

This time when I woke up, I wasn't disoriented. I wasn't confused. Was my life as I knew it really as remarkable I as thought it was? Or was it incomplete? I looked over at Alicia sleeping next to me, and I realized that the one thing I did know for certain was that this was not the woman I was in love with.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR**

I never went back to sleep. I showered and dressed for work, then left Alicia a note apologizing for leaving early to oversee the specifics in the Carmichael merger. It was too important a deal for my career not to supervise every detail I told her. I didn't want Alicia to ruin my bliss this particular morning. I rode my motorbike through the quiet streets of London and entered my office at 6am. I wanted to be alone with my thoughts. I wanted to be alone with Clarke one last time and to savor every detail I could of her before real life intervened.

"Who was this woman Clarke?" I thought. Was she a figment of my imagination? Was she real? I sound like a mad man. She _was _scored on my heart. Her touch, her silky hair, the taste of her mouth sent shivers throughout my body. It was more than a physical reaction. It was much, much more. It was her smile. It was that look of unconditional love in her eyes. It was the feeling that she was the only thing that made me get up in the mornings. How had it been that she eclipsed a loneliness in me that I never knew existed?

She sired a desire in me that I never felt. My body, my mind, my heart longed for her. It was as though she put a spell on me. I wanted to know everything there was to know about her. I wanted to know the details of her life. I wanted to know what made her happy because I wanted to make her happy. My only concern was her, not some physical satisfaction like in that past. I wanted to please her in every way, which was a departure from the normal way I interacted with women.

I lived large. I lived for the thrill of extreme sports, of toys and adventures money could buy. I lived for the thrill of being the leader of my group of friends who sought my approval and revered me. I lived for competing in business amongst my peers of equal or more talent and emerging the victor, of closing business deals worth more money than a small country's GDP, and of impressing my superiors and climbing the corporate ladder. I got off on it all. Women were just another thrill to me. Pretty French girls giving me the eye. Statuesque blondes looking for some fun. Hot girls who liked me for my pedigree. I obliged for the sheer sexual pleasure of it all and the flattery that came my way afterwards. Maybe I knew their names, but not much else mattered to me. I didn't care where they grew up or about their family lives. It was purely sexual. But with, Clarke, it was different. I wanted to be much more than a lover. I wanted to be her friend, her companion, and her partner. I couldn't even say that about Alicia.

I couldn't even bring myself to look at the itinerary of my day or to read the constant incoming text messages on my phone. I wanted to remain lost in my thoughts, lost in Clarke. I looked busy enough to passersbys . I sat on my computer, googling images of Emilia Clarke, scrolling through picture after picture seeing if any looked most like_ my_ Clarke. I was suddenly startled by my secretary Gwen at my office door.

"Good morning, Will. Will? Are you ok? Will?"

"Hey," I finally responded grinning ear to ear and taking a deep sigh.

"Harris said he's been texting you and hasn't heard back . Will? They need an answer."

"What?" I said distracted but still grinning.

"Harris said he needs an answer about Carmichael." She stared at me inquisitively for a moment then exclaimed, "Will Traynor, you met someone!"


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE **

Gwen closed my office door quickly yet quietly as not to draw attention to ourselves.

She flopped down on the chair opposite me at my desk, lunged forward resting her chin in the palm of her hand and began to fire off questions. "Who is she? Where did you meet her? How long ago? What's she like?" Her legs fidgeting in place, she exclaimed, "I'm so excited for you!"

"There's not much to tell," I tried to convince her still grinning

"Oh, you're killing me!"

I chuckled, "There's not?"

"Does Alicia know? Did you break up with her? Oh, please tell me you did! Anyone would be an improvement."

"No and no," I replied, remaining tight lipped. "You're going to think I'm crazy."

"Let me be me the judge of that." She sat up in her chair eagerly awaiting for me to begin.

I opened up to Gwen. I recounted every detail about my dreams and the woman named Clarke who captured my heart. She sat nodding her head, pursing her lips, listening intently.

"Look. Look." I got up, sat on the front of my desk and showed her some pictures of Emilia Clarke which I thought sort of reminded me of _my_ Clarke.

Gwen gestured to me with her index finger to hold on, wait a minute. She took a pad and pen off my desk and started writing. I sat perplexed.

"Ok," she said. "Ready." I stared at her. She began in a serious voice that broke into sudden fits of laughter, then some spontaneous snorting, and finally hysterics, pounding her fist in a fit of laughter on the chair to her right.

"Dear Ms. Clarke,

Hello. You may recognize my name from a handful of business and men's magazines where I have been featured as an up-and-comer in the financier banking industry and as an extreme sport enthusiast.

Let me get down to business. I, Ms. Clarke, am a real catch. I am a real living, breathing James Bond. I am quite good-looking – in fact, devilishly handsome – am well-educated at the best boarding schools and universities, and am a rare mix of intelligence, superiority and sarcasm. I travel the world, speak multiple languages, and jump out of airplanes. There's no food or extreme sport I won't try. I'm from old money but am also independently wealthy. My earnings are more than you make in seasons combined. If I may be as bold, I fancy myself an excellent lover.

Khaleesi, the best part is that I own an actual castle where your dragons could roam free. Consider my family home their playground. I can promise you that if you win the iron throne, I will refute any claim to it as your husband. I am your humble servant and you my sun and my stars.

Your biggest fan,

Will Traynor

PS: Should you raffle yourself for charity again, I will outbid both Brad Pitt and that mystery man! Money is no obstacle!"

Horrified, I cried, "Uh, you mock! Is that how I really come off?

"Well, Will, your reputation precedes you." Gwen roared in laughter! "I'm sorry, I really am!" She desperately tried to pull herself together but couldn't. "Should I send this to her official fan club or her manager?"

I didn't like being ridiculed. "Neither. So, you _do _think I'm crazy?"

"Yes I do!" she confessed, "I love you, Will. I love your like you're one of my own boys. You know that. Don't you think this is a little creeper-esque. You ogling pctures?"

I shrugged.

"Doesn't it make more sense that you want something more than what the Alicias of the world can give you? "

I shrugged again, "Maybe."

"I think there's a beautiful, intelligent and loving woman out there for you. A real relationship. Absolutely. But no, I don't think there's a woman named Clarke or that she will look like Emilia Clarke."

"Yeah." I was disheartened. ""Gwen?" I asked.

Gwen remained seated with a reassuring motherly smile. "Yes, Will?"

"That fan letter. Is that how you really see me?" For the first time, I wanted to be known for my character, the way Clarke saw me.

"It bothers you?"

"It does." I continued. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Anything, "she responded.

"What am I like as a boss?"

"You're the best boss! You demand competency and results, but you're supportive and encouraging. You value our contributions and our opinions. You make people feel like a team. You're kind and generous and treat us like people and not machines. You know I cant say that about everyone who works here, especially you know who. You're also patient with new learners. The best compliment I can give you is that I don't work for you, I work with you."

"Thank you for that. I just wish that's how people saw me instead …. instead of … "

"Wild Willy Will Traynor?" She completed my sentence for me.

"Yes, him." I felt like I would never live him down.

"Don't be upset, Will. This is good. You'll find a quality woman who'll think you're the most amazing man! You'll see. It'll happen. First and foremost, ditch Alicia, huh?"

With that a smile returned to my face. Yeah, ditch Alicia, I thought, a task easier said than done.

* * *

At lunch I just wanted to be alone. I walked through the plaza along the waterfront and through the adjacent tourist area. Despite Gwen's insistence that Clarke was a dream, a symbol of a more mature me, I looked for Clarke everywhere I went. Deep down, I believed she was out there, and if I scoured every place life took me I would eventually find her.


	6. Chapter 6

**A note from the author:**

**A sincere thanks to the readers and to those who posted reviews. Please note that each line starts a new dream sequence. I hope everyone enjoys.**

**CHAPTER SIX**

Clarke invaded my dreams, night after night, each dream the continuation of the same story, one I never wanted to end.

Since confiding in Gwen, I spoke to no one about her. On occasion Gwen would ask me, "Any luck finding your dream girl yet? " "No," I would respond. "Still with Alicia?" "Unfortunately," I would reply. "When are you going to get rid of her?" "When she's the least confrontational," I argued. I played it close to vest. I didn't want to divulge or share anything with anyone, least they should discourage me, the way Gwen initially had.

* * *

I forgot about my limitations for the duration of our plane ride home. I remained in Clarke's embrace, kissing her passionately until a member of the crew interrupted us. It had taken the male flight attendant three attempts to get our attention. "Sir? Madam? Excuse me, Sir? Madame? Sir? Madame? Excuse me?" he kept repeating, until out of desperation he placed a hand on Clarke's shoulder, which finally did the trick. He spoke in a hushed voice. "I'm so sorry to disturb you both, but there have been a number of complaints about your … um, your display of affection." Clarke was noticeably embarrassed, shrinking off my lap and falling back into the seat beside me. "Oh God, I'm so, so sorry. So sorry." she winced apologetically at the flight attendant. I, on the other hand, found the entire situation humorous. I chuckled, "Thank you. I think we can behave ourselves for the rest of the flight." Looking over at Clarke, I jested, "Don't you, Clarke?" She buried her face in her hands and nodded yes. I whispered to her," Are they all appalled?" She lifted her head to look around and still wincing nodded yes again. "Good,'" I replied satisfied. I leaned my head as far as I could towards her and once again whispered, "I'm sure we're going to be embarrassing ourselves with much worse 'inappropriate displays of affection' when we get home. Might as well just get used to it, Clarke." Before she had a chance to respond, a tall older, white-haired gentleman with a slight limp, who was likely on his way to the loo, made eye contact with me. As he passed our row, he stopped suddenly and commented, "Sorry about the wife complaining." "Thank you, sir, "I responded kindly. "Bet that one gives good bed bath, eh? Hehehehehehehehe!" Just as quickly as he appeared he was gone before I even had a chance to reply. Clarke's head snapped up, she looked completely mortified; her eye brows pinning her eyes wide open in repulsion. "In my defense, Clarke, I guess I am still the most envied man in the world," I boasted proudly. "Ah, you're so awful, "she cried. Nathan, who was sleeping in the seat next to Clarke, missed the entire episode including the old man's exchange. I took great pride in recounting the story to him and even more enjoyment watching Clarke relive her embarrassment while the two of us laughed raucously at her expense.

* * *

Clarke fell silent and looked contemplative just as the plane landed. I asked, "What's on your mind, Clarke?" "Can you make me a promise, Will?" "I can." I was confident that I could and would do anything this woman requested of me. "Promise me you'll never mention Switzerland again?" My answer was simple." If you want me to." And like that, her beautiful smile returned. My parents met the three of us at the airport. I could tell that while they were happy to see me, they were also on edge about whether I intended to keep my appointment in Switzerland. My mum, in particular, looked particularly worried. I wanted to ease her pain. "Mum, I'm ok," I reassured her. She nodded half-heartedly then stared at me perplexed "Will, are you alright? Your bottom lip is swollen. Nathan, can you look at this for me?" "Mother, I don't need Nathan to look at my lip. It's from excessive kissing on the plane." I cast a devious smirk at Clarke. My mum looked positively shocked, and God bless Clarke, she stood there with a ridiculous, big smile nervously stuttering, "Is anyone else hungry? I can use a um … a …um … a bite to eat. Dinner, yeah? Yeah?"

* * *

It was late, and we were all exhausted when we returned to the annex. Clarke unpacked my bags and busied herself with a load of clothes for wash, while Nathan readied me for bed with my usual nighttime routine. After he left, she stood in my bedroom doorway. "Am I needed?" she inquired with a unique blend of giddiness and sexuality that was all Clarke's. "Don't go back to your home tonight, Clarke," I requested. It was the second time I had asked her to stay the night with me. Her response mirrored my own from earlier that day. "If you want me to." She walked over to my wardrobe and pulled out a long-sleeved dark navy blue shirt of mine. "It's my favorite, "she said. She disappeared to the bathroom and changed into my shirt, then climbed into bed with me. She intertwined our hands together and cuddled against my shoulder intermittingly planting kisses on my bare skin. I started to confess, "I don't … I don't …" "Everything ok?" Clarke broke in concerned. "I don't want to wake up alone anymore." 'I can definitely fix that," she said breathlessly. "Oh look, I think your bottom lip went down. Should we do something about that?" I was completely at her mercy.

* * *

In the morning I woke up with Clarke in my arms, her head under her chin, and her silky hair against my lips. As she began to stir, I kissed her head. "Good morning, Clarke."

"Good morning," she uttered half asleep.

"Guess what?"

"What?" she replied?

"I've agreed to be your business manager."

"Really?" she cheerfully exclaimed lifting her head.

"Now, we have a lot of work to be done," I cautioned. "As your manager and your possible sole investor, I will first require seeing your products. Next you will have to make a pitch to me, and finally I am offering to be your focus group."

"Isn't a focus group more than one person?" she questioned.

"Well yes, but I'll only share the fantasy on the rack, not my girlfriend."

"Oh! Is that what I am now, Will Traynor?"

"It is," I demonstrably stated. "Now go take the car home this morning and pick up those gorgeous nighties of yours. I will need to start inspecting them for Quality Assurance."

"Quality Assurance?" she giggled.

"Yes, we need to make sure those strappy ties effectively work as advertised."

"I can get on board with that."

"Now Clarke, have you considered any names for your brand? May I suggest Granta House? Lady Granta?"

Clarke cried out horrified, "What? Your mum would kill you then me!"

"I know!" I replied snickering.

* * *

"Will, can I use your credit card?"

"Errr, for what?" I inquired. Clarke had that excited madwoman look in her eyes with a mischievous grin.

"I need to make some changes around here." She was hiding something.

"What kind of changes?" I insisted. She looked downright crazy.

"It's a surprise," she announced. "Just trust me. Have I ever let you down?"

"There was that horse racing incident."

"Right yeah, but what about after that? Hmmmmmm? "

"I don't like the look of you."

"What look?"

"What look? That madwoman look! You're up to no good!"

"You'll just have to trust me, Will Traynor!"

I conceded. "It's in my bag. Take it."

"I love you!" And she jumped a few times, unable to contain her enthusiasm.

"ANDDDDDDDDDDD…"

I interrupted, "There's more?"

"I got you a new carer," she announced.

"A new carer? What do I need a new carer for? I don't want one. And besides, where are you going? And, why haven't you discussed this with me?" I was a bit angry with her now. What in the devil was she up to!

She rubbed her hands excitedly, grinning even more cheerfully. "That's a surprise too! But I will give you a hint. She's a tall leggy blonde, and her name is Lola. She'll be here in 3 days!"

"Lola? She sounds like a stripper! You got me a stripper?" I teased.

She stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at me. "NO! Will Traynor, you know I do that for free for you!"

"You do, and you're quite marvelous at it, so why would we want a 4th wheel in addition to Nathan around here?" I argued.

"Trust me," she haughtily pleaded. "I adore Lola, and you will too! You just wait!"

The next day an Amazon order arrived. Clarke was beyond excited. She began setting up Alexa dots and smart plugs in every room, programming whatever electronics and lights she could. She installed Ring to the front and side doors of the annex. She even managed to get a smart tv with streaming capability and a provider with voice recognition software.

"There!" Clarke beamed, her eyes glowing and basking with pride! "You are now more independent than you were yesterday." She proceeded to walk around our annex testing everything out. "Now we wait for Lola!"

Clarke refused to give me any additional hints about the mysterious Lola, but I did manage to get her to agree to fire her if I didn't think it would work out. "Yes, I will return her, Will! Absolutely!" More packages from Amazon continued to arrive. Some were small, small were large. Some were so heavy she had to have Nathan move them. Clarke refused to answer any specifics. And, since she placed the orders on her iPhone and not mine or my laptop, I had no idea what she purchased. She would only say, "It's equipment for Lola." All I kept thinking was: Why does Lola need equipment? Nathan knew what was going on but wouldn't tell or give me any hints either. It seemed Clarke swore him to secrecy. Lola, however, did get his endorsement. "Mate, Lola was all your girlfriend's idea, but I think she would be very good for you!"

Clarke insisted that Lola text her when she arrive and come directly to Granta House. When she received the text, she left me in the kitchen of our annex waiting with Nathan. Clarke yelled from the door between the annex and Granta House and instructed me to close my eyes.

"This is crazy, Clarke. No."

"Just do it," she begged. "Nathan, are his eyes closed?"

"Nope!" Nathan called out. "Mate, just close your eyes. She went to a great deal of trouble to do this for you."

I unwillingly closed my eyes and played along.

"Yeah, go ahead," Nathan shouted.

"You can open your eyes now." Clarke said. There in front of me was my surprise. Clarke was kneeling with her arm around a yellow golden Lab. She looked positively radiant. "Will, this is Lola, your tall, leggy blonde. She's your service dog. I hope you like her! I want you to be as independent as you can."

I was touched and stunned. I had to choke back tears. "You think if everything, Ckarke. I love you." I never considered a canine companion. In fact, no one suggested one for me. Certainly not my parents. Only Clarke would.

Clarke gestured to Lola and declared, "I call us Team Traynor!" "Then she introduced Brad from the Canine Companion Project. "Brad, this is my Will."

Brad explained in depth the program, the types of assistance their highly trained dogs could offer, and the emotional bonds formed between recipient and canine. Lola could do all type of tasks from retrieving and delivering items to opening doors and drawers to turning lights on and off. She could push wheelchairs and pull on and off socks and jackets. And the best was that the canine chose the recipient based off of smell from the sampling of clothes provided to the program for selection purposes.

Lola immediately came to me, identifying my good hand, and then licked my fingers. She had the kindest eyes next to Clarke's that I've ever seen. I couldn't help but smile and stroke her soft, soft fur. "Welcome to your new home, Lola." Just as Clarke had predicted – I already adored.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

She was unlike anyone I had ever known. I discovered that she was happiest when she made those she loved happy. Simple gestures. Grandiose gestures. The attention to the tiniest detail. All expressions of love. All thoughtful and meaningful actions. I remember in great detail that she set about recreating my favorite Parisian desert – a warm croissant with unsalted butter and strawberry jam. At first she drove herself crazy collecting samples from every bakery within a 25 mile radius. The pastries were all too dry, too flaky, too buttery, too doughy, the jam too sweet, too gooey, too bland. She scrapped that idea, but based upon my critiques of all of those samples, she took to our small kitchen to bake her own croissants and can her own strawberry jam. She had even asked my mum permission to use the strawberries growing on our grounds. Through trial and error, she adjusted the ingredients, keeping accurate records of her recipes. She never did recreate an exact replica; however, her homemade version became the new standard of perfection, and I remember I told her as much. Her response was that hallmark beaming smile, and whenever I saw it, I knew that everything was right in the world.

She had a big heart, but she wasn't entirely selfless. In my dreams, she wanted me to live. She knew that what made her happy was me, and she wasn't going to sacrifice that. That night on the beach she promised she could give me a good life despite my physical challenges, although perhaps it wasn't the most conventional or ideal she argued. But then again, she was no ordinary woman, and what I remember is that what she managed to give me was nothing less of an extraordinary life.

I remember she took impeccable care of me. She was so meticulous in dispensing my medications and so watchful for the first signs of trouble. She knew from the slightest change in my breathing, the flush of my skin, a particular look in my eyes, a twinge or a wince what was brewing and took immediate action before anything developed into something major.

I was so in love with her that I did whatever it took to be with her. When we were finally together, I was in awe of her. I was no simple observer. She seduced me, her lips, her tongue, her fingers gripping at my hair all working in tandem and so perfectly-timed and in precision with the movement of the rest of her body. I swear I could feel her coursing through my veins; and if all imaginable, I lost complete control of myself, my lips frantic unable to get enough of her. Somehow, she managed to free my soul from my broken body.

I remember I wanted children with her, and I would do anything no matter how uncomfortable it was for me. I took all of her previous research and updated it. We flew to across the pond to UCLA where I had undergone a procedure that extracted sperm to be frozen for future use. When Charley was born, I was concerned I would never be able to hold her, and even then she continued to amaze me. She purchased several different papoose carriers and wraps so I could hold our daughter close to my chest or swaddled in my arm, even seated in my lap.

And I vividly remember our girls, Charley and Willow. I liked to say one part daredevil, one part crazy, 100% lunatic. I was always asked if I would have rather have had a boy, and I always loved telling people that I was rather fond of watching American Girl Movies, animated Barbie flicks on Netflix, and playing Candy Crush and wouldn't have it any of way. There was nothing like reading to our girls as they sat on my lap while I entertained them in different character voices as they giggled like their mum. There was nothing like teaching them how to play chess or coaching their soccer teams. There was nothing like being a parent, and I fancied them my best mates. Rupert had nothing on them.

I reveled in her every morning. She was my reward for a long day's work and the exciting start to a new day. She gave me a newfound high. I felt like a whole new person because of her. She was my strength. She was my muse. She made me strive to want to be better. She made me feel superhuman, downright invincible. I was even more at top of my game at work, if that was even possible, and no one could keep up with me. I doubled my acquisitions and tripled my profit. There was even talk of a promotion to partner.

I needed to find her. For 6 months I looked everywhere for her. My eyes were peeled open. I surveyed my surroundings; I looked from side to side, even behind me and left only when I was completely satisfied that she was not there. I looked in every coffee shop, supermarket, shop, transportation hub, pub, restaurant, and airport. I looked on ever y street corner. I looked on my business trips to San Francisco and to New York, to Belgium and Singapore. I reasoned she could be anywhere. At the next table in a restaurant, in the next room at my hotel, even on the same elevator. In Balthazar, I found myself more interested in the chalets, shops, and crowds than skiing or snowboarding. In Mallorca, I perused the beaches, hotels and tourist spots for her with no regard to the company I was keeping or any interest in play.

My search was inexhaustible, although I admit there were times I was so frustrated I wanted to give up. I often felt hopeless and yet I continued. I was a man on a mission.

Then one day the dreams abruptly stopped, and I came crashing down.


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

Concertos. The Ballet. The Opera. Other society events. I always enjoyed black tie affairs. This was after all the milieu I had grown up in. As a child, I used to watch my parents prepare for such evenings of elegance and culture. My mum in designer evening gowns, expensive pearls and family jewels. My dad in his black tuxedo and cummerbund, adjusting his bow tie and affixing his suit jacket with a pair of antique gold cufflinks engraved with the Granta House insignia and dating back to the first Stephen William John Traynor, Lord of Granta House, in 1815. "One day these will be yours, young Will," he would always say. He gifted them to me when I completed my master's at the London Business School. Tonight I wore those cufflinks with my tuxedo to the opening of the Modern Masters exhibition at the Victoria and Albert Museum which I promised Alicia I would attend with her after much fuss. I dressed the part, my usual debonair and dashing self, but was reluctant to be there.

We were special guests of Alicia's former sorority sister, Jocelyn, and her fiancé Oliver, who worked in Acquisitions and was instrumental in procuring … or rather "unearthing" … some of the most obscure yet hideous abstract paintings from "modern masters" like Mark Rothko, Jackson Pollack, Wassily Kandinsky, and Willem de Kooning. Since I stopped dreaming of Clarke, I was irritable and unsocial. The last thing I felt like doing was socializing with pretentious people who actually found these obnoxious and obscenely priced artworks thought-provoking masterpieces when I would rather stay home and binge watch another season of Game of Thrones, her doppelganger my pathetic quick fix for an absentee Clarke these days.

Making small talk was a chore but sounding sincere was even more of an arduous task. I poured on the charm, although exhausting, and succeeded in convincing even Oliver that his exhibition was impressive - remarkable from selection to display, the artwork beyond riveting. I socialized with husbands and wives, bankers and other businessmen, spoke politics and sports. I could hardly stand it. I didn't want to be there, and I was bored. I needed a reprieve from pretending to be fond of modern art, which was never my cup of tea, and feigning interest in people I found to be self-important. I also needed a respite from Alicia whose shallowness I could tolerate only for so long and from several annoying flirtatious women – mothers, daughters, some old, some middle-aged, some barely legal- who I did not care to be bothered with.

I stealthily slipped away from Alicia and the crowds in hopes of being alone and made my way to a small isolated enclave that overlooked the museum grounds where 3 abstract artworks from private collections were on display. The lighting was soft unlike the main exhibition area. I took a seat on the white marble bench in the middle of the room and found myself facing Jackson Pollack's No. 5, 1948, quite a large piece of art measuring 8ft by 4ft. I retreated into my mind, wondering if I followed every overlapping, meandering line if one would eventually lead me to Clarke. I was so lost in thought that I hadn't noticed anyone was in the room with me until the faint lingering scent of sweet tuberose with fresh citrus notes and hints of peppery spices caught my attention. I recognized it immediately. La Chasse aux Papillons.

I peered over my shoulder; the ever so slightly shifting of my suit jacket echoing through the room caused her to momentarily turn away from the painting across the room and acknowledge me with a warm smile. There she stood. Her dark hair, wavy and cascading over her shoulder like our last night on the beach, one side fastened behind her ear with a rhinestone starfish barrette. She was the most stunning creature, a picture of grace and style in a champagne-colored, off-the-shoulder tulle A-line gown. I was instantaneously drawn to her alluring red lips.

I spoke first. "Willem de Kooning. Woman III, 1953. I can't tell if you're admiring it or revolted by it? "I sat on the bench facing her now.

"Neither can I!"she admitted giggling. She returned to gaze at the de Kooning. A few seconds later she addressed me again, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Anything," I responded breathlessly.

"Do you think she's beautiful?"

"No, she's unsightly!" I exclaimed.

"Oh, thank God I'm not alone!" she resounded. "She doesn't even look human!"

"She's abstract, she's not supposed to," I jokingly pointed out.

She crinkled her eyes and surveyed the painting once more, titling her head from side to side. "She looks like a Viking ogre with long, yellow yarn-like hair and shark teeth! And she's dressed in a huge bra your grandma would wear!"

I laughed at her candidness. She was a breath of fresh air standing there in a beautiful dress, cringing at the absurdity of it all.

"You know, the artist believed that art did not have to be a certain way."

She nodded her head agreeing. "I can respect that, but I think in this case he needs glasses."

"This was a controversial painting for de Kooning. His contemporaries thought that depicting the human body was an outmoded subject. They favored these biomorphic shapes and landscapes, lines, color and texture you see here tonight." I gestured to the other 2 artworks in the room. "Plus, his nontraditional treatment of the female figure as grotesque caused quite a stir. This is actually 1 of 6 in a series."

"You mean there's more?" she gasped.

"Yes, unfortunately," I snickered. "This painting is privately owned. It was last bought for $137.5M."

"Noooooooo!" she cried, her lips pursing in disbelief.

"That Rothko sold for $75M, the Pollack at $140M."

"But they're just a bunch of shapes, lines and colors! A child can do that!"

"I know, and truly hideous," I bemoaned. She stood smiling at me, eyes twinkling. "Can I take you somewhere?" I asked. "Can I show you something?"

Before she had a chance to answer, I was startled by a familiar voice. "Oh Will, there you are! I've been looking for you all over. You've been gone for over an hour." Alicia. And then like that, Clarke faded and was gone again.

"I had to take a call from Bates. Problems in New York," I responded.

"On a Friday evening? I wondered where you went."

"Business."

Still staring at de Kooning's Woman, I couldn't help but think Alicia bore a striking resemblance to her. I chuckled.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, just something about the painting I noticed." I took a photo of the de Kooning and texted it to Gwen. OUTGOING TEXT: "Reminds you of anyone?" INCOMING TEXT FROM GWEN: My Lord! Did she pose for it? OUTGOING TEXT: "It's uncanny, right? Downright eerie. "INCOMING TEXT FROM GWEN: BREAK UP WITH HER! "INCOMING TEXT FROM GWEN: The hubby can't stop laughing.

Annoyed, Alicia pouted, "Will, you know I hate that phone. Pay attention to me." I despised when she acted like a child. Somehow she mistakenly thought that I found a grown woman sulking attractive. I did not. I composed myself, politely smiled, and laid the phone face down next to me in case Gwen texted again. "Sorry, I remembered I had to tell Bates something."

She slinked down on my lap and started puckering kisses on my neck. I wished she wouldn't do that. She was like a caricature to me now. Everything about her irritated me. Her voice. Her artificial lips. Her phony pouting. Her whining and manipulation when she wanted something. Her feigned affection. "It was a good night, just like the good old days. You. Me. The It Couple." She was becoming unbearable. She whispered in my ear, "Let's go home early tonight and have wild, passionate sex like we did when we first met." I closed my eyes and grimaced. She caressed my knee and began to slide her hand up my thigh. I immediately reached down and grabbed her hand. "No, stop." I said.

_**I just want to thank everyone for the number of views my story has received and for the reviews. I was never exposed to art until my freshman year of college. A classmate referred me to a particular professor for art history for **__**a general ed course I had to fulfill , and I simply fell in love with art. Sure, I can do the fancy talk and use words like milleu, but I loved it as a primary source for history , my first love. I ended up double majoring in History and Art History. My least favorite art was non other than Modern and Abstract Art. I prefer representational art. Will likes what I like! I thought art and a museum may make a great backdrop for a chapter. I may do more using Degas and Georges de la Tour, perhaps Artemisa Gentileschi. And please do look up the two abstract paintings I use here to get the full effect of how Alicia may look to Will. I looked for something particularly ugly yet comical to use. Enjoy, everyone!**_


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER NINE**

If I told you that Chanel No. 5 could smell rancid, you would never believe me. I had awakened the beast, her blood boiling, blinded by rage over 2 words. "No, stop." I knew what I was doing by refusing her advances. I knew exactly how to provoke her. I knew the end game, and I knew that in order to get there I had to do exactly what I had been dreading all these months.

My senses did not deceive me. Alicia leapt from my lap obstructing the de Kooning. In front of my eyes, she shimmered into Woman III 1953. Her model good looks and physique now a distortion of her perfect socialite countenance. Her high blonde ponytail hung like yellow yarn, her hot pink satin cutout mini dress stretched to hug her flat ogre body. Her eyes feral, her teeth fang-like and protruding over deflated abstract lips, her elongated nails sharpened like claws and flexing as if to rip flesh from my bones . She stood larger than life, the lighting casting a large shadow looming over me as I remained seated on the marble bench. She looked terrifying, glowering at me. Ah, the true Alicia. I wasn't afraid. In fact, I was relieved I didn't need to keep up this pretense of a charade anymore.

"WHO IS SHE?" she seethed, sounding almost demonic.

"I have not cheated on you." It was the truth after all. As Gwen had pointed out, I didn't even know if Clarke was real or a figment of my imagination.

"Do not treat me like I'm stupid! I'm going to ask you again. WHO IS SHE?"

I stood up and walked over to meet her eye to eye. "I told you I have not cheated on you." I remained firm and resolute.

'Don't lie to me, Will," she demanded becoming more agitated. "I know there's someone else. Did you meet her on one of your business trips?"

"No," I said losing my patience. "I just told you something!"

"I don't believe you!" She glared at me, eyes burning holes in my body. Her rant continued. "You've been acting strange for months now. At first I told myself you were just preoccupied with work and getting that promotion. I chalked it up to you being so driven, but then you became distracted. By whom? By what? I have no idea. You took me to Mallorca for our first anniversary together and left me on the beach to go walking alone and spent most of our together either on your phone or reading! You won't even kiss me anymore! Am I supposed to be happy with a hello or goodbye peck on the lips? The worst though is having… having to beg … beg you for sex! And when we do make love once every 7 weeks, you're detached. You're more interested in watching that dreadful Games of Thrones over and over than touching me! And what about how often I've caught you just staring and daydreaming! And don't even get me started on that stupid dog of yours!"

"Don't bring Pesto into this!" I warned.

"Oh, why not? You lured me under false pretenses to accompany you into the country to pick up that dog from some charity when I thought we were going wine tasting!"

I interrupted her. "Let me set your faulty memory straight! You invited yourself along when I told you I had an errand to run in the country!"

"That mutt kicked me out of your bed and took over my spot!" she shrieked. It was true. Alicia had proven herself to be a poor companion, and after Clarke disappeared from my dreams I was lonely. I also found I missed Lulu, and I remembered the important work she did. I was convinced that if I was a worthy man, I would find Clarke. And so it hadn't taken much to persuade Harris into a corporate sponsorship with The Hero Dog Project for PR purposes. After my promotion and the business I brought into the company, I could have talked him into anything. I had done the research and pitched it myself. I served as the company ambassador and liaison and spearheaded our office's efforts. Three members of our upper management team including myself would each sponsor a puppy for the year. Our pups were only 2 months old when we received them, and in accordance with program rules, our wards remained in our primary care for the majority of the day. That meant we were allowed to bring them to the workplace where our individual staffs would also participate in the program, bond with them and aid in their socialization process until they were called and matched with recipients. Alicia was none too happy about my involvement in the program. She was angry I hadn't discussed it with her, that such a commitment would take time and attention away from her, and more so that I wasn't so free anymore to leave on impromptu weekends and vacations. She fumed when I had to remind her, "This isn't the type of dog you crate for the week, Alicia!" Pesto and I bonded immediately, and within 2 months and as he grew bigger, he decided he no longer wanted to sleep at the foot of my bed. He wanted Alicia's spot. One evening, Pesto squeezed his body between us and began to dig under Alicia moving her inch by inch until she fell off the bed and triumphantly assumed her spot. This continued for a week, each time Pesto the victor until Alicia had become conditioned to the fact that she could no longer sleep in my bed with me. I remember thinking, "Pesto's already a hero dog!" But yes, Pesto had become a major source of contention between us.

"Jealous of the dog, now are we?"

"You're goddamn right! You're more affectionate with that dog than you are with me! And you make my ears bleed when you sing him that ghastly Molahonkey song! Raising a service dog! When the hell did you become so civic-minded?"

"Do you ever think about anyone other than yourself? No need to answer. I already know the answer to that. You're not capable of anything else."

"Keep your voice down! I don't need to be any more humiliated than I already am tonight arriving in a compact SUV instead of your Jaguar sports car you recently traded in to chauffer that dog! "

"You really are shallow. This. You. Me. This isn't working for me anymore."

"You bastard! WHO IS SHE?" she demanded.

Just then I received an incoming text from Gwen. It was a text in echo effect, a female zombie and a pair of lips duplicating and flooding the full screen! Another reference to Alicia.

"Is that HER? Goddammit, Will? Is it?" Without warning, Alicia ripped the phone from my hand and read through the exchanges I had with Gwen that evening!

"You're an arse, Will Traynor!" She was livid, and I didn't care. She glanced from the de Kooning back to me. "Is that what you really think of me?"

In good conscious I could not give Alicia any false hope or encouragement, no matter how cruel I sounded. "Worse," I answered. "You're superficial. insincere, mean-spirited, snobby, manipulative, childish. Shall I go on?"

She was appalled. "Did that old witch put you up to this? Encouraging you to break up with me? Working behind my back for months now?"

""Working behind your back?" I asked. "Didn't you get that junior buyer Diana fired? Didn't you lie about her and tell your boss that clients complained about her being rude and incompetent because she was competing with you for a promotion?"

"She was also flirting with you at our holiday party!"

"No, she wasn't! She was asking my opinion about masters programs in business. And if you really want to punish anyone for flirting with me, it should be your mother and your brother! They both have hand trouble and make me very uncomfortable."

"I can't believe you just said that!" She began to pout again, knowing there was some truth to my accusation.

"I just want this over," I told her plainly, "This is not enough for me. I need something more."

She began to whimper like a child. "More? Like what, Will? What don't I give you?"

I answered truthfully. "Warmth. Affection. Passion. Real companionship. A true partnership. I want to be loved for being me."

"Don't be daft, Will! You know I love you."

"No, you don't. You love my money, my status, my name." Her whimpering turned into sobs. I continued without any regard to her feelings. "I'm a whole different person since we first met. We don't value or want the same things anymore. One of the things I've discovered I want most is to be a father."

"That ludicrous dream again, Will! That's what this is about? Are you bloody kidding me?"

I nodded yes.

"Well, I can give you an ankle biter or two someday if it means that bloodily much to you! Just don't bre…"

I cut her off and set her straight. "No! You would make a terrible mother. You're too selfish." I couldn't lie.

"Will, please. Please don't do this! she pleaded. "How can you be so cruel to me?"

"I keep thinking about the last time we visited my parents, and you had stopped at the coffee shop across the street while my dad showed me some renovation plans for the Castle. Do you remember what you told me about the waitress?"

She nodded sniffling and fighting back more tears. Her eye makeup had completely run off.

"I asked her for a cappuccino with no milk and she kept insisting on soy. I told her to follow my directions, and the bumbling fool brought me an Americano. She couldn't even handle a simple request. She was completely inept. I threw the damn thing in the garbage right there in the cafe. "

"Yes, and I believe you told me you had continued to berate her telling her there's a reason why she's the one wearing an apron, and then you tried to have her fired too. You do realize that a cappuccino without milk is an Americano, right? Spiteful. Cruel. Judgmental. That's who you are."

"And who are you, Will? The champion for the little people now?" she quipped back, rolling her eyes in scorn. "You should have seen her. She was a ghastly looking thing with 2 side buns, yellow tights, a navy polka-dotted shirt and a butterfly printed skirt! Horrid!And she always had this ridiculous smile on her face that made her look slow. You would have loved her though. She looked like your precious Mother of Dragons."

I was in disbelief. "What did you just say?"

"She looked like that bloody girl from your Game of Thrones! Do you need me to repeat myself again?"

Is it possible she was Clarke? Is it possible Alicia of all people knew where she was this whole time? I wanted to get home and head out for Granta House as early as possible tomorrow morning.

"I gotta go," I abruptly told Alicia.

"What about tomorrow?" she cooed between sniffles. Her one last attempt at manipulating me.

"What about tomorrow?" I asked. "We're over, broken up, done."

"But, your mother personally invited me!"

"Well, Alicia, I am personally uninviting you to my parents' home. One more thing, my key please?"

"You're ruining your life, Will!" she snapped back.

"Stop being so melodramatic. My key please?"

She handed me my apartment key back defiantly and added, "You're ruining my life!"

"Oh I don't know about that! You're just as annoying as Rupert! Why don't you look him up? He seems to want everything I have and always needs someone to think for him. It could be a match made in heaven!" I suggested. And with that I left a free man, eager to find Clarke.


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER TEN**

I was showered, dressed and on the road by 6am for the long 3 hour drive from London to Stortford. At least I knew there wouldn't be traffic headed in this direction on a Saturday morning on a fall September day. With the cold weather encroaching, and with the chilly fall wind setting in, the little village of Stortford had no doubt morphed back into a sleepy market town from the tourist destination it was during summer months with the Castle as the main draw. It was just me and Pesto now. I was looking forward to enjoying a continuous drive on a beautiful scenic route in the peace and quiet and admiring the color of the changing leaves. No music. No Alicia whining or pouting or yammering on about something superficial. I had even turned my phone off after receiving 22 text messages from Alicia within mere hours. Even though I blocked her number, I was sure she would find some other way to harass me by phone. I wanted to gather my thoughts, assess my situation with Clarke and brainstorm without interruption.

As a businessman, I knew that all successful ventures began with a business plan. I would approach this no differently. For starters, I needed to plan a course of action as to first locate Clarke. Then, I needed to strategically plan how to win her heart. That, of course, would be more complicated with varying factors. As much as I was brimming with anticipation that Clarke may have always been 40 paces from the Castle door, I was a realist. In my dreams, I knew every part of her body. I could distinguish every giggle. We came together because of my situation. Yet, in real life I was thankfully not a disabled man, she not my carer. I was nervous to meet her. Would she be as I remembered? Would she be an altered version of herself? Would she even like me? What if she found me too direct? What if I were not direct enough? What if she didn't care for my sarcasm? Or, perhaps find me snobby? Or, perhaps think I could take what I wanted because I was an entitled Traynor? Or, maybe she would find me to be nothing more than a playboy and an incurable flirt? Maybe she would find me to be a complete arse? That, however, I readily admit to being! What if she was already married, and I was too late? That would be the worst case scenario! My mind raced with what-ifs! I had to play this smart. I had to play all my cards right. I couldn't just walk up to her and confess my love. Even I would think that was sheer craziness. I needed to calm down. I decided it best to take my cues from her, play it by ear, according to her responsiveness to me.

My dad had rung me late Tuesday afternoon requesting my presence this weekend. "Nothing sinister," he said. "Just business with the Castle is all." My dad would often consult me on matters with Stortford Castle, so I didn't think much of it. The last time I visited, he was still tossing around the idea of building a refreshment area within the Castle itself. I assumed he wanted my opinion on the blueprints. Before hanging up, he extended a personal invite from my mum to Alicia to join us. I knew my mum would be furious to find out I broke things off with her. It was after all she and her old college roommate, Mary Rawlinson, who schemed to match us at some awful dinner party. Mary was Alicia's goddaughter, and I think my mum and Mary have been planning our elaborate engagement party and wedding before we even met. I knew that by the end of the weekend, Alicia will have called Mary heartbroken and Mary will have called my mum, who in turn would apply pressure on me to make up with Alicia. I was dreading that conversation.

I entered Stortford at quarter past 9. My parents were expecting me by noon, so I instead drove to Main Street and parked near the souvenir shop entrance, just across the street from the Buttered Bun. An internet search of the café yielded no results last night, so my search for Clarke would fittingly start at the cafe in person, at the place of her last sighting. I was hoping to see Clarke for myself, perhaps make small talk to feel her responsiveness out, or at the very least observe her for a future interaction. If she wasn't there, it became only a reconassence mission, gather Intel – her name, her hours, whatever I could find out.

I sat in my SUV hesitating for about 20 minutes whether to go in or not. The pragmatist in me said that the likelihood Clarke would fall madly in love with me at first sight was in one word - remote- not even a good or fair or reasonable bet. The odds were stacked against me. The prospect she would hate my guts was more probable than love at first sight but much less possible than garnering at least a modicum of interest. That was, in fact, the likeliest of outcomes. In any event I had to be prepared to think fast and find new ways to approach her and appeal to her under any circumstance. I realized that my procrastination was being driven solely by a fear of rejection, the rantings of a madman who let his mind wander adrift again. Pesto sat on the seat next staring at me. I took a deep breath and uttered aloud, "I'm really going to do this." And with that Pesto and I made our way to the door of the Buttered Bun.

Before I entered I took note of the sign outside: "Shop Hours Saturday and Sunday 8am-Noon, M-Fri 7am-5." Good to know, I thought. I admit I never visited the café when I came home. Maybe my life would have been completely different if I had.

The café was small but airy with a charming small village appeal. There were about 7 tables inside, and from the looks of the menu that hung above the counter they served mostly tea, coffee, pastry and sandwiches. I assessed my surroundings quickly. No Clarke, but that didn't mean she wasn't out back in the kitchen area. I kept alert for any changes to my environment.

I was one of 6 patrons in the café this morning. As I stood behind a red-haired woman who was disputing her bill with the gentleman in his 50s situated behind the counter, I began to hear whispers behind me from the direction where 2 older women wearing pink hairdresser smocks sat.

"Oh, he's even better-looking than the one in scrubs!"

"Isn't he?"

"I wish I were young again!"

Just then I heard the café door open. I turned briefly to see a man about my age and wearing blue scrubs with a windbreaker enter.

"G'day, Nina! G'day, Cherie!" He smiled broadly as he greeted the hairdressers in an Australian accent and stood behind me in line.

"Handsome George," one of them shouted out apologetically. "The Adonis in front of you is going to give you a run for your money,""

"Aye, Nina, thanks for the heads up!" he responded laughing.

I turned to smile at the ladies and amused I shook my head at the man in scrubs.

"Don't mind them. Their bark is worse than their bite," he replied.

"I'm Will, by the way."

"Nathan."

"Not George?"

"No, mate. Handsome George is only a nickname." He broke out in a fit of laughter, "They think I look like George Clooney from his early ER days with the Caesar haircut and scrubs!"

"Dear God!" I cried. Nathan obviously was a regular. Perhaps he could assist me. "Wasn't there a young woman with long dark hair who works here?"

"Yeah, mate. Lou." So Clarke has a name. Lou. Why does that sound so familiar? Short for Louise? Louisa? Lucy?

"Just to be certain, she looks like that girl from Games of Thrones, right?"

"Yeah, that's her. She hates when people tell her that, but she's a good sport about it. She always threatens to shave her eyebrows off. She loves that show though."

"Do you know if she's working today?"

"Nah, Lou doesn't work weekends. With the end of the tourist season the weekend hours are abbreviated. No reason to keep it open. Frank, the owner here, handles it alone."

I couldn't hide my disappointment. The next time Clarke would be here in the cafe is when I'm back at work in London! I wanted to ask more but feared if I pressed on Nathan may mistake me for a stalker.

"Why are you looking for her anyway?" Nathan asked curiously.

"Last time I was here my girlfriend was rude to her, caused a big scene. I wanted to apologize." I sounded convincing, even to myself.

"Oh, yeah. Lou's a sweet girl. She takes a lot of abuse from customers, but she's used to it. "

"Next!" the man behind the counter shouted and cut Nathan off.

"I'll have a croissant with a black coffee to go." I said.

* * *

I arrived at Granta House about 10am. My mum must have heard my engine and came to greet me outside in the courtyard with a hug and kiss.

"Will! You're early. I wasn't expecting you till noon. What happened to your sports car?"

"I traded it in."

"Where's Alicia?" She looked around, dumbfounded.

"I traded her in too."

"Honestly, Will! When will Alicia will be joining us?" She was losing patience with me.

"Mother, I broke up with her?"

My mum's face stiffened. "Is this your idea of a joke? Alicia was perfect for you. Why?"

"Why? Because she's unlikable and too high maintenance. I warn you not to get involved when Mary Rawlinson calls because I'm sure Alicia will go crying to Mary if she hasn't already, and then Mary will be calling you to intervene on Alicia's behalf. Please just stay out of it. "

"You make me so angry sometimes, William!" she stammer on.

"I'm an adult, Mother! I can make my own decisions. Promise me you won't get involved?" I changed the subject quickly. "Now is dad around?"

"No, he went out."

"Do you know where he went?"

"No," she snapped. "You know your father doesn't share that information with me."

"Do you know why he's summoned me here then?"

"I'll let your father explain all that." I could tell something wasn't quite right but dropped the matter.

I returned to the SUV to retrieve my bags and Pesto.

"Will, is that a dog?"

"Yes, I think that's what you call them, mother. His name is Pesto."

"When did you get a dog? Never mind." She was dismissive. "I don't want you walking him on the grounds or in my gardens. Take him down to the stadium park. Walk him there."

Since my dad wouldn't be back for another 2 hours, I left my bags in the foyer and headed back out with Pesto, this time to the stadium track!


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER ELEVEN **

I left Granta House for the stadium feeling somewhat defeated that morning. For the better part of a year, I had lived in a vivid dream world of possibility and wonder with Clarke and spent my waking hours spanning my daily landscape looking for her. I realized the absurdity of it all, and yet I had made significant progress in the last 24 hours. I had come so close but yet felt so far from accomplishing my goal. I was a man on a mission whose newfound progress was suddenly halted by the news that Clarke was not due back at the café until Monday morning when I would be back in London. I knew driving around the village looking for her wasn't an option. "There goes the Traynor boy stalking around young, pretty brunettes again in that Jaguar of his" was not how I wanted to be known in town. I also knew that I had traveled so far that leaving without making any substantial headway could easily cause me to come undone again just as I had when Clarke ceased appearing in my dreams. I considered calling Harris, requesting a day off to extend my stay in Stortford. I could use whatever renovations my father was planning as an excuse to give myself the day to meet face to face with Clarke. She had such a profound effect on me that I felt I owed it to myself to finish what I started, even if she rejected me and I left gutted.

It was a 15 minute drive to the stadium from Granta House. I couldn't help notice how differently Stortford looked in the matter of a year since my last time home. I had heard about the recession, but hadn't seen the consequences until now. Despite it being a weekend in an off-tourist season, the streets looked more desolate than usual. There were a handful of out-of- business signs and empty storefronts on Main Street. As I passed an exit for neighboring Hailsbury I felt my throat tighten. There stood a sign for Beech Novelty, a 70 year old furniture company, that my firm had been involved in asset stripping. A man by the name of Alan Stonehouse, who I trained myself a few years back, earned the nickname of "The Hatchet Man" because he had been particularly brutal in dismantling Beech Novelty piece by piece until there was nothing left. Beech closed earlier this year, 200 employees out of work. I can't say I took any pleasure in Alan's success or the manner in which he did business. That was often the unfortunate downside of financier banking – the human toll.

When I reached the stadium the carpark was to my surprise packed, a kids' football match could be overheard echoing from the interior of the park. The chill from the early morning began to dissipate with the warming sun as it neared closer to midday. I removed my black canvas jacket, leaving it in the car and walked with Pesto in tow towards the stadium entrance. On my way in, I moved aside to let 3 blokes appearing to have just completed a hardcore training session and wearing "Hailsbury Triathlon Terrors" jerseys exit first. "All my plans went to pot," I noted as they passed. "I hadn't gotten dressed up for the likes of them!" I shook my head in disbelief. I had wanted to make a good first impression on Clarke at the café today. I wore a blue and white stretch gingham shirt to bring out my gray eyes with jeans and a pair of black Authentic Vans. I left the top 2 buttons of my shirt open to tastefully hint at my physique underneath and applied a conservative amount of Invictus cologne to appeal to her senses without being too overt or overpowering.

Once inside the stadium itself was rather empty but a few teenage lads practicing football kicks in the net on the green and 2 older couples walking the track counterclockwise at a leisurely pace. I followed suit. As per the training program, Pesto required daily exercise to keep fit and burn off excess energy, which at almost 7 months he had an awful lot of these days. I kept a strict adherence to the recommended Five Minute Rule as not to over exert or cause any developmental issues, so the morning's walk around the stadium would last about 35 minutes.

Pesto and I completed our first lap around the track when I noticed that the same 3 Hailsbury Triathlon Terrors we passed on our way in had returned with 2 additional members and lots of sports drinks. The track suddenly became crowded. One couple completely left the track altogether decisively put off by one particular Hailsbury Triathlon Terror jogging in place on track 4 and shouting like a drill sergeant. He was the tallest and leanest of the 5 and clearly the most serious as he was the only member decked out in full triathlon regalia – the tri suit! Don't get me wrong, I've donned a wetsuit for surfing and a wingsuit for skydiving, but those tri suits looked so unnatural on a man. I had seen his type in London gyms and out training. Passionate or zealous wouldn't be accurate descriptions. They were fanatical, obsessive diehards for their sport. I would even go as far as to call them rabid! Between the suit and personality, I had a hard time taking this sort of bloke seriously.

As I got closer his shouting became louder, more intense, his words more audible. The veins in his neck were pulsating. "Sixty miles on bike! Thirty miles on foot! 2.4 mile swim in subzero Nordic seas! You look like a bunch of pansy arses! You're an absolute embarrassment today! Get it together, boys! You've got to work smarter AND harder! Think about your times!" I came face to face with him after his rant concluded. Unfortunately, our eyes made brief contact. Still jogging in place he acknowledged me with an awkward downward nod and equally awkward comment in passing. "Motivation," he said darting his face towards me. "That's how it's done!" And with that he unexpectedly let out a primal grunt while chest thumping with both fists drawing my attention to a mesh vest worn over his tri suit that read "Young Entrepreneur of the Year". Whoa, even more of a pompous, arrogant prat, I thought! Like Alicia, he reminded me of a caricature.

On my next lap, I saw Running Man in the distance suddenly dash over to the stadium entrance, take a girl's hand and lead her back to the middle track with him. He proceeded to hold her hand and jog backwards, leading her running in my direction. I told myself it couldn't be. I told myself I was hallucinating. I told myself I was imagining her like I did at the museum the evening before. But there she was, and I couldn't take my eyes off of her. Clarke.

No vintage gown. No red lips. Her hair was swept to the side in one long braid like in so many of my dreams. She looked like she stepped out of another decade in a long gray sweatshirt with fuchsia hearts and black leggings with gray converse high tops and fuchsia and maroon striped leg warmers. A pink floral bag hung across her body and hit her hip with every movement she took. I watched her run out of breath in mere seconds, release Running Man's hand and then clutch both of her breasts as she came to a complete stop. I couldn't overhear what she said to Running Man, but I was now only feet away and saw her up close for the first time. Despite her current countenance I found her in, gasping for air nonetheless and still cupping her breasts, she was striking, more beautiful than I had even imagined. Her blueberry eyes even more vibrant. Her skin so creamy and flawless. I stared the entire time I passed her, but not once did she look in my direction and notice me. For the first time as far as I could remember, I was invisible. I was invisible to the only person I so desperately wanted to see me.

As I got a safe distance from her, I stopped, turned around, and watched her walk away from Running Man to the bleachers where she took a seat. I didn't know who Running Man was to her. Nor did I care. I just knew she was alone now, and I had to talk to her. I decided that on the following go around I would approach her.


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

As I made my way around the track for the last time, I kept periodically looking back to make sure Clarke had not disappeared, that she was not some figment of my imagination. I still wasn't 100% entirely convinced otherwise. Once I had determined that my eyes weren't deceiving me, I became paranoid. Maybe she would leave the bleachers. Maybe she wasn't alone there anymore and was joined by a friend, deep in conversation, or worse a boyfriend, perhaps even Running Man, and I would miss my chance yet again. And so I continued to steal glances to verify she was where I last saw her and alone. It occurred to me then that my actions were a bit dodgy, and I had soon grown fearful that I too was being observed … observing her. I stopped along my trek to discern if I was being watched, taking in a panoramic view of the stadium, only to determine that its occupants were completely absorbed in their own activities. Running Man, in particular, was now making his way around the track at lightning speed, his breathing hard, sweating and oblivious to his own teammates. He would stop, check his stop watch and start again.

I found Clarke exactly where I left her. She sat on the first row of the bleacher, engrossed in one of those mass market paperbacks. At least she wasn't engrossed in Running Man. That was a plus. I double checked his whereabouts before making a beeline for Clarke. Thankfully, Running Man was still self-absorbed in his own training.

I promised myself that I would talk to her, and that is what I intended to do. I positioned myself a few feet from Clarke on the same bleacher row. Pesto sat comfortably and relaxed at my feet, his tail sweeping back and forth, his mouth slightly open. I stroked his head, his neck and his chin.

"Good book?" I asked. "You seem engrossed in it."

"What? I'm sorry?" She lifted her head from her novel startled.

"You seem quite taken with your book. It's refreshing. Most people are engrossed with their phones not books anymore."

She looked directly at me now smiling. Her eyes sparkled engaged with mine. I felt my heart flutter. "Very true. I hate when you're talking to someone, and they aren't even listening to you because they're so distracted by their phones."

"I'm sorry to say I've been guilty of that myself. You?"

"Not really. But I do like getting lost in a good book now and then!" I couldn't help but stare at her lips as she spoke. The way she pursed them were undeniably uncanny. I wanted to draw her lips in mine and kiss her right there and then. I composed myself quickly knowing that any gaps in conversation were detrimental to the momentum.

"So what's your book about?" I inquired.

She grinned, trying to determine if I were serious. "I'm sure you don't really want to know."

"Why not?" I pressed on, trying to be witty.

"Because it's chick lit," she laughed, darting her eyes to her sneakers then back at mine.

I insisted. "Go on. Tell me anyway."

"Really?" She was skeptical.

"Really. Try me."

"Well, it's about an orphaned girl who grows up to be a porn star then a famous actress and ..."

I interrupted her. "I'm sorry. Did you just say a porn star?" I jested, "What exactly are you reading? And when has chick lit ever included pornography?"

We were both laughing at this point.

"Yes, well you wanted to know! It's just an early plot point though."

"Go on. I'm sorry. Please continue."

"Well, ok … um … so she searches for her birth mother who she knows is 1 of 3 best friends from a Switzerland boarding school."

"So, who do you think the birth mother is so far?"

"Um …I'm not sure yet. I think maybe the French aristocrat Maxine. She's a tart. But maybe the American because she's really chaste and too good and earnest to be true. The book's name is **Lace** by author Shirley Conran, you know if you're considering ordering it from Amazon or something! It's a trashy American novel from the 1980s!"

I sheepishly grinned at her, gesturing to her leg warmers. "I see that's not the only thing you like from the 1980s."

She burst into a fit of giggles, and for the second time within minutes I wanted to kiss her. I grabbed onto the bleacher tightly, my knuckles turning white to control my urges.

"Ah, I admit! I do love the 1980s! Molly Ringwald,! Anthony Michael Hall! Rob Lowe! Oh, Rob Lowe is so dishy even as a man in his prime! I loved his autobiography! Such sordid tales of his youth! I suppose you haven't read, have you?"

I shook my head no. She was so full of life. So delightful and charming. I didn't want the conversation to end anytime soon.

"Too bad," she continued. "Some of my favorite authors are Jackie Collins, Danielle Steele and Sidney Sheldon. Now he's some storyteller!"

"Yes, I see. All high literature!" I joked.

"Oh you mock! Well, people read for all types of reasons. For instruction. For knowledge. For escapism. I like my trashy novels. They entertain me. Didn't you ever read for entertainment?

"I have. Ian Fleming. Do you know him?"

Her eyes grew wide as she shook her head no.

"Seriously?" I was completely shocked.

"Really," she responded.

"James Bond. 007."

"They're books? Are all the movies based on books?"

"All the classics are! How can you be the ripe old age of what?"

"26," she answered defensively.

"26 and never heard the name Ian Fleming?"

"In my own defense, I've seen all the movies!" she retorted, unable to control her giggling again.

"So has the world! You really didn't know they were based on books?" I was very cognizant of not making her feel bad about her ignorance of the topic just as much as I knew I had to keep my eyes off her breasts and tiny waist if I wanted to continue to keep the banter going.

"No," she insisted.

"Fleming wrote 12 consecutive 007 novels and one collection of short stories beginning in 1953. Would you have me name them?"

She propped her head up on her hands. Her eyes were moist from the laughter, and there was a glimmer in her eyes as she rested them on me. She was clearly entertained by my display of cleverness and quick-witted responses. "Go ahead!" she dared me.

"Casino Royale 1953. Live and Let Die 1954 Moonraker 1955, Diamonds Are Forever 1956, From Russia with Love 1957, Dr No 1958, Goldfinger 1959, For Your Eyes Inky 1960, Thunderball 1961, The Spy Who Loved Me 1962, On Her Majesty's Secret Service 1963, The Man with the Golden Gun 1965 and Octopussy and The Living Daylights 1966."

"Impressive! Are the books as glamorous and action-packed with adventure like the movies?"

"No, they're more cat and mouse spy thrillers but very intelligent and engaging. I started reading them when I was 11 years old."

"Fancy yourself a Bond I suppose?"

"Why would you say that?" I couldn't help but flirt with her. And I couldn't wait to hear her answer.

Before I knew it, she blurted out," Because you smell as good as I imagine Bond would!" She began to laugh nervously now, as if she had just fessed up to some big secret I should never have been privy to. She fancied me! I knew I should have saved her from her embarrassment at that moment, but I reveled in her compliment, and it felt so bloody good that I wanted more.

"You think I smell good?" I teased.

She gave me this face as if to say don't push it.

"Better than those tossers?" I gestured to the tri-athletes still going relentless on the track. Running Man had now taken to coaching each of them individually.

"Anyone smells better than they do," she cooed. "They smell like sweat even after a shower."

I had to hand it to her. The real Clarke was just as gorgeous and engaging as in my dreams; however, I hadn't counted on her own cleverness and wittiness she had on display. I was captivated by the way she could banter back and forth with me, and especially by the ease in which she did. It was perhaps her most attractive quality yet.

I took that moment to introduce myself. "I'm Will by the way."

She looked like a deer in headlights now. "Louisa. Lou," she replied in a bumbled voice. She discreetly maneuvered one row up, smiling trying to conceal her embarrassment.

I noticed she put some distance between us, and I was concerned but pressed on not wanting to create any silent moments that could cause our chat to come to a crashing halt.

"You know who you remind me of, Louisa?"

"Oh, no! Please don't say it!" she cried out. She knew what was coming.

"Emilia Clark."

She turned beet red, chewing on her lip. "It's the expressive eyebrows! I swear, I'm going to shave them off."

"Don't you work at the Buttered Bun?" I asked curiously.

She looked at me suspiciously. "Yes, how do you know?"

I playfully replied, "I heard their waitress was a Game of Thrones lookalike!"

"What? Who told you that?" She began to giggle again. I swear her giggles were becoming my favorite sound in the whole world.

My comeback was priceless. "My ex -girlfriend! She tried to get you fired. Maybe you remember her. She asked for a cappuccino with no milk, and you brought her an Americano."

She cried out again this time in a fit of laughter. "You're kidding me, right?"

"Maybe you'll remember her if I show you a picture." I took out my phone, scrolled to de **Kooning's** **Woman III** from the night before, and handed it to her.

"OMG! YOU'RE SO TERRIBLE!" she squealed. "Eww, she's so grotesque!" She laughed so hard she had tears in her eyes. Seconds later she asked, "Wait! Can I see that picture again?"

I obliged and returned my phone to her.

"You know I do remember her!" she exclaimed. "OMG! She was the Yetti! She was dressed in this shaggy gray fur smock and looked like some genetically engineered superhuman with surgically-enhanced lips! She was awful! That was YOUR girlfriend?"

She had certainly nailed Alicia! What was there not to love about this girl! Even her laughter was contagious.

"Unfortunately, yes," I chuckled. "My mum and her godmother set us up!"

"NOOOOOOOO, really?"

"You know, Louisa, I grew up in Stortford. I'm surprised our paths never crossed before."

"Why would they have? You're older than I am, and I'm pretty sure we didn't hang out in the same circles."

"I'm 31, not that much older."

"Old enough that my dad would have had something to say about it back then!"

I had no witty comeback. What was I supposed to say?

She thankfully broke the silence. "So Will, what brings you back to Stortford?"

It was the first time she addressed me by name. It sounded so natural, so unpretentious from what I was accustomed to hearing. It was titillating.

"Visiting my parents for the first time in a year," I answered. "My dad rang me earlier in the week and has some business to discuss with me. I made the 3 hour drive down from London this morning."

"And what do you do in London?" she asked.

"I'm a financier."

She gave me one of those wide-eyed , blank expressions I had learned in just a short time meant she didn't know what the heck I was talking about.

"I work in investment banking and corporate finance."

"Oh," she smiled politely. I got the distinct feeling she didn't know much of anything about the world of finance, and I was honestly relieved. She changed the subject rather abruptly to cover for her lack of knowledge. "And was that picture taken at a museum in London then?"

"Yes, at the Victorian and Albert Museum. Have you been?"

"No, never. I don't do a lot of traveling. Can I ask you a question though?"

"Anything," I responded. It was déjà vu.

"Do you like that type of art? It's kind of weird and ugly."

"Abstract art?"

She nodded her head yes.

"It's ghastly. I like lots of other art though. You?"

"I like clothes."

"Clothes?"

"Costumes, I mean."

"So do you sew?" I had to ask.

"I do!" she stated proudly. "And really well too."

I couldn't believe the similarities. I wanted to know more. I wanted to know everything. Images of strappy tied nighties in an array of colors, prints and materials danced through my mind! I felt a heat rise up in me, a flush beginning to take hold of my skin, and an ache in my loins. I took a deep breath to release some tension, hoping to disguise my yearnings.

"Did you go to school to learn?"

"No, but I did have a place at Manchester."

"Well, why didn't you go?"

A sadness fell over her that juxtaposed the bubbly girl I came to know that morning. She hesitated, searching for the words to respond. She shrugged her shoulders and raised her eyebrows only saying, "Things happen." Then she reassuringly smiled at me and climbed the bleacher again to sit directly above where she was. I could tell that was more to the story but didn't want to pry and make her more uncomfortable.

"So how did you learn to sew?"

Her warmth returned immediately.

"Well, one of the patrons at The Buttered Bun taught me. Her name was Daphne, and she was a seamstress. She actually sewed the costumes worn by Audrey Hepburn in** My Fair Lady**. She died almost 4 years ago and left me her sewing machine and serger."

"Whoa! My Fair Lady? I bet she had lots of good stories to tell!"

"Ah, she did! They were fantastic!"

"My secretary's husband is a set designer. Well, he's retired now, but he has some of his own unbelievable stories about these bigshot actors and actresses!"

"You have a secretary?!" she cried.

"I do," I laughed.

"You must be a bigshot, huh?" she mocked.

"So tell me. Do you make your own clothes?"

"I do sometimes! But I make Halloween costumes and Christmas dresses for some of the local kids for extra income. My dad's a furniture maker, but he lost his job this year."

"Beech Novelty?" I asked. I was beginning to feel guilty again.

"Yep, employed there for 25 years!"

"I'm afraid it was my firm that asset stripped your dad's company. I trained the guy who spearheaded the campaign."

"Really?" She looked pained and disappointed.

"Yeah." I hated that look on her face. "If that makes you feel any better, he's a major arse, and no one at the company likes him,"

"It doesn't, but thank you."

I wondered if she hated me now. For a second time, she broke the silence, and I was eternally grateful.

"There's a dog run just past the swings in the park, you know."

Are you trying to get rid of me?" I asked half-jokingly.

"No! Why?"

"Allen Stonehouse."

"Who?"

"My colleague who closed your father's factory."

"Oh, no I don't blame you. I was just trying to be helpful."

"Good to know." I was relieved she wasn't holding me personally responsible for her dad's unemployment. "He's not allowed in a dog run. He's a service companion in training. There are strict rules I must follow."

"OMG! I never knew anyone who did that. That's so beautiful!."

"I'm glad you think so, although my ex-girlfriend felt otherwise," I teased.

Like music to my ears, Louisa broke into another fit of giggles. "No offense, but your ex-girlfriend was a horse's arse!"

"No offense taken!" I quipped.

"So what's his name?"

"Pesto."

"Pesto?" she cried. "What kind of name is that?"

"Pesto as in the green pasta sauce. It gets its color from basil, you know!"

"No, sorry never had! I'm allergic to basil."

"Good to know, Louisa."

"What? Why?" she inquired incredulously.

"So I know where not to take you for dinner," I casually offered as an answer. I was, however, dead serious and put the idea out there to gage her interest.

She sat in disbelief, her mouth open. When she finally spoke, she was nervous, stumbling over her words. "I um…I have a boyfriend." She pointed to Running Man.

"Running Man? Well, he's not invited."

She sat stunned, staring at me.

Just then Running Man walked by on his cell phone. "Let's go, Lou," he shouted and stormed off seething. I could overhear him screaming on his phone in the distance. "What do you mean you lost our application fee? How incompetent are you?" He left the stadium without Louisa, who smiled at me nervously and shrugged.

Now realizing she was 3 rows up on the bleachers, I noticed Louisa looked puzzled as to how to make her way down easily without falling. I stood up and offered her my hand like a gentleman. She reluctantly accepted my help. Our eyes locked, and I held her gaze as I guided her down each step. "Careful," I said. "Careful." Once she was safely on the ground, I continued holding her gaze, her hand lingering in mine just a minute longer before letting go. "You're boyfriend's waiting for you," I reminded her. "Yeah," she whispered blushing, lowering her eyes away from mine.

She stopped to pet Pesto goodbye, then took a few steps towards the stadium exit, turned and flashed me a warm smile. "It was nice meeting you, Will!" "Likewise, Miss ….? "No, I cant," she insisted giggling. "Is your last name a state secret?" I teased. "It's Clark without the e, ok? And that's where the comparisons to Emilia stop!" She started towards the exit again when I called after her. "We'll see about that, Clark!"


	13. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

**LOUISA**

**A little girl talk …. by text!**

Louisa: Treen! I need you!

Katrina: Where are you?

Louisa: Pat's car.

Katrina: Pat's car & you need me now?

Louisa: Yeah, it's urgent.

Katrina: I'm in the library working on my business paper due Thursday. Be home 2:30. Talk then.

Louisa: No, I need you now.

Katrina: Can't it wait? Be home 2:30.

Louisa: Noooooooooo!

Katrina: Talk, make it quick. I don't want to spend my whole day in the library.

Louisa: Ok, so I was at the track reading a book while watching Patrick run, and you'll never believe what happened!

Katrina: You're reading a book or watching Patrick run? I'm confused!

Louisa: You know what I mean. Stop.

Katrina: I don't know why you go there to watch him run when all you do is read.

Louisa: For moral support, Treen. Trying to be a supportive girlfriend.

Katrina: All it does is feed his massive ego. He doesn't need any more encouragement in that area.

Louisa: When did you start to hate Pat?

Katrina: When he told Tom to shut up last week. I was studying for my exam, mom was with grandad, and dad was out back finishing that cabinet piece for the market. Pat was just sitting there at the kitchen table with his eyes closed, doing that stupid "visualization" thing he moans on about. And Tom asked Pat if he wanted to go outside and play soccer. Pat told him and I quote: Stop with your whining, kid! You'll just have to learn to play by yourself. I've got more important things to do than kick a ball. I'm busy visualizing the track in my mind." A real arse!

Louisa: He didn't mean it. Pat just gets cranky sometimes when he doesn't beat the time he wants running. He's stressed over the Viking Triathlon is all.

Katrina: Stop making excuses for that twat! I told him if he couldn't be nice to my son, he need not come to my home. And you know what he said to me?

Louisa: No, what?

Katrina: He told me if I were as smart as mum and dad think I am, I wouldn't have given up the duff!

Louisa: I'm sorry.

Katrina: Stop apologizing for him. He's a grown man. He should be apologizing for himself.

Louisa: I did tell Pat not to talk to Tom like that, he's only a little boy, and he just wants to play.

Katrina: Idk. He's changed since he's become the running man.

Louisa: OMG! THAT'S WHAT THE HOT GUY IN THE PARK CALLED HIM TODAY! RUNNING MAN!

Katrina: What hot guy?

Louisa: OMG! That's what I wanted to tell you. There was this insanely hot guy at the stadium today walking his dog, and he sat down near me at the bleachers and started talking to me!

Katrina: How hot was he?

Louisa: HOT! Really hot, the definition of handsome!

Katrina: Scale of 1-10?

Louisa: A 15!#!#!.

Katrina: Well there must be something wrong with him if he was talking to you.

Louisa: Treen! Seriously!

Katrina: Well what did Pat say?

Louisa: Nothing, he didn't even notice me talking to him. He was too busy training with the team.

Louisa: We talked for OVER AN HOUR!##!#!#!

Katrina: Were you wearing those ugly maroon and fuchsia striped leg warmers again?

Louisa: Yeah, why?

Katrina: Maybe he has an 80's fetish.

Louisa: You're awful! STOP! You would have swooned too!

Katrina: That sexy, huh?! So what did you talk about?

Louisa: He wanted to know all about the book I was reading and asked me a lot of questions about myself. He was super intelligent and really, really funny.

Katrina: He was flirting with you, you daft girl! He likes you. God only knows why.

Louisa: Hold up. Gotta turn off the text alert tones. Pat's getting annoyed right now.

Louisa: Ok, back.

Katrina: So who is he?

Louisa: His name's Will. He's a "financier" from London visiting his parents in Stortford for the weekend.

Katrina: Sexy city boy!

Louisa: Katrina Clark!

Louisa: I kept giggling and acting like an idiot though.

Katrina: What do you mean acting like an idiot? You are an idiot.

Louisa: Alright. Alright.

Louisa: He told me I looked like Emilia Clarke.

Katrina: Kinky, maybe you should be Daenerys for Halloween instead of me!

Louisa: You're so horrible!

Katrina: Did you get his last name?

Louisa: No, I wasn't thinking.

Katrina: You never think, you stupid girl!

Louisa: He asked me mine though. And he knows where I work.

Katrina: At least that's something. You really are stupid, you know that?

Louisa: Well, I was distracted.

Katrina: By what?

Louisa: So many things. His chest for starters. You should have seen!

Katrina: Don't hold me in suspense.

Louisa: You could see the outline of his chest underneath his shirt. I swear he looked like he had the body of a dolphin. Like a swimmer.

Louisa: And the chest hair! OMG! It started right above his collarbone and was so smooth and silky, even silkier than Thomas's hair! All these little random patterns of swirls! I kept moving my seat away from him. I didn't want him to know I kept looking. I was SO embarrassed.

Katrina: And you say I'm bad?

Louisa: But Treen, he was wearing IT!

Katrina: IT!

Louisa: IT!

Katrina: INVICTUS?

Louisa: Know how we always smell it in the department store and say we don't need the man, we only need the bottle? Trust me, we need the man!

Louisa: Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, he was the nicest smelling man … EVER!

Katrina: My, my. Sounds like you forgot all about Pat!

Louisa: Shut up!

Louisa: And he asked me out. Well sort of.

Katrina: Well, what did you say?

Louisa: I told him I had a boyfriend.

Katrina: You ARE the stupidest girl in the whole world! You've been with Pat for 7 years, and he makes you pay your own way on holiday! You do realize that, right?

Louisa: I know, I know. But what was the point. He lives in London. I'm sure I'll never see him again anyway.

Katrina: You are a true disappointment, Louisa Clark. I would have come away with his phone number and email, that's for sure.

Katrina: Let me go and finish. I'll see you at home later.

Louisa: K. xoxoxoox


	14. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

Louisa Clark . Louisa Clark Traynor, I thought. It definitely had a ring to it.

I was on cloud nine! And I was pumped! What was it that finally made our paths cross right here right now? Fate? Dumb luck? Or was there more at play? I'd never been a religious man, well no more than the next bloke, but I was convinced that divine intervention played a role and led me to her. How else could I explain my dreams and our chance encounter today?

I couldn't imagine anyone or anything jostling me from this nirvana. We spoke for exactly 1 hour 23 minutes! Our conversation so effortless , so at ease. Our sparing so natural yet electric. I could talk to Louisa Clark for hours on end! And I could spend a lifetime looking into her very eyes!

I swear she sparkled.

From her petite stature and frame to her gregarious nature and infectious smile and laugh, she was perfect. So vivacious, so full of life. So upbeat and light-hearted. So animated. And so damn sexy. Especially when she was being silly! Ah, that twinkle in her eyes as I teased. Her every giggle a reaction and provocation. The way her voice crescendoed then trailed off. She captivated me each time she retreated her eyes from mine then returned my gaze. I knew I wanted to be entangled with her in every way imaginable. My body with hers, her life with mine.

I was hooked, and I wanted more of her. Much, much more. Starting with seeing her again, sooner rather than later. I didn't know when I would be back or how I could make this work long-distance from London. Could I commute every weekend or even bimonthly? Sometimes in my line of business negotiations stalled or volleyed back and forth ironing out details and deals that required grueling 70 hour work weeks for extended periods of time. Would modern day technology suffice for the long periods alone, missing and yearning to be touched by the other? Would texting or FaceTime or Skype be enough? Yes, it was something but still a poor substitute for the real deal.

I was getting too far ahead of myself. There was the issue of her boyfriend. Normally, I would never cheat on a girlfriend let alone come between a couple. I did have morals you know. But I couldn't wrap my head around how Louisa ended up with Running Man. She deserved so much better than that tool! The crux of the matter was that I had already fallen in love with her. I didn't really have a choice but to pursue her.

Time quickly passed, and I hadn't realized that it was already the middle of the afternoon when I returned to Granta House. My father was waiting for me in the drawing room, and immediately motioned for me to join him. He seemed annoyed. "You're late, Will. Nice of you to finally show up."

"I lost track of time." I replied.

"Doesn't seem like you." Looking at me suspiciously, he asked, "Where did you go off to? Or should I say with whom?"

"Well, where were you this morning?" I challenged him, knowing all too well of his whereabouts when he wasn't around.

He snickered, "I lost track of time myself."

After a brief pause, my father continued. "You're mother told me you broke up with Alicia. Was that wise?"

"You didn't spend the night here. Was that wise?" I replied, unwilling to discuss my personal life with my father, a known serial cheater.

"Your mother and I have an arrangement, Will. Don't look at me like that. You're an adult now. Adult relationships are complicated."

"You summoned me here. Should we get started? Do you have more blueprints for me to look at?" I was becoming increasingly aggravated with each minute in his presence. My bliss from the morning was slowly wearing aware.

"Just waiting for your mother to join us. She's still on the phone with Mary Rawlinson."

I made a face in disgust. Err.

"You know you're mother is very upset with you right now. She put a lot of effort into this pairing between you with Alicia."

"And when did you become mother's champion?" I quipped.

"Very well, Will. Have it your way." And with that, he finally dropped the topic of Alicia. "I've decided I want to do some traveling."

"Alone?" I inquired.

"No," he sneered, "with a friend."

"And mum? She's ok with your travel mate?" I knew full well it was Della. He didn't exactly conceal his dalliances, not even from the public eye.

"Well, we've discussed it, and she 's ok with the setup."

"Setup? Nice way of downplaying it, Dad."

He smiled. "Well, yes."

He was intolerable. "You called me all the way down here to tell me you'll be stomping around Greece and Rome and God knows where with your current mistress?"

"Don't pretend you're any better," he protested. "I remember a revolving door of girls sneaking out of your room in the mornings."

"I was a teenager," I responded in defense of my youthful indiscretions.

"And you honestly believe you're any different today?:

"Yes, I'd like to think I am."

"Like you were with Alicia?"

"I didn't cheat on Alicia."

"If that's your story, Will." He made everything sound so sleazy. I despised my father sometimes.

"So why am I here?"

"Will, your mother and I are making changes around here. We've already spoken to Georgina, and she's on board with our plans. We just wanted your blessing as well."

"You're divorcing then?" I asked.

"No."

"No?"

I was startled by my mother. "Will, how could you? You broke that girl's heart!"

"Mother, I told you to stay out of it."

"Really, William? Telling that poor girl you don't want children!"

"With her, mother! With her! I told you not to get involved, and I meant it. Why is it so impossible for you to believe I'm not in love with Alicia, so I broke things off."

"There's more to marriage than love, Will."

"Apparently. Look at you and dad and how well that worked out!"

My mother began to respond, but I cut her off. " Not another word, Mother," I warned. "Would somebody please tell me why I'm here or I'll be leaving? "

My father finally spoke up. "Will, I've decided to close the castle for good."

"You're what? Closing Stortford Castle?" I couldn't believe my ears! How preposterous!

My father had retired from the banking industry 5 years earlier and taken over the management of the Castle himself. Every year, he drew up plans for renovations, and every year he failed to follow through. I remember one such planned renovation to build a refreshment stand within the Castle threatened to shut down the Buttered Bun and caused much ado about nothing throughout the village. Unfortunately, my dad invested more time in his mistresses than in actually running Stortford Castle.

"Yes, son. Why are you so surprised?"

"Why? Because Stortford Castle is the main … the only tourist attraction in the village! You're ok with this, mother?"

"It's not my choice, Will. It belonged to your father's family not mine. Now that you know, I'll leave you and your father to it."

I couldn't believe my father. He did no more and no less than he had to in order to keep the Castle open during the summer months. Talk about mismanagement.

"Have you considered the long- term effects closing the Castle will have on the local economy? Do you even realize how the local business rely on the summer tourism for the majority of their sales and revenue. You don't have to close it, you know. You do have the option of hiring a manager and still be able to travel."

"Will, look around. The village is dying, and tourism has been down. It's not worth keeping Stortford Castle open anymore."

"In all due respect, you haven't even tried to keep it open! You pay architects handsomely every year to draw up blueprints for renovations you never implement and do nothing to attract more tourists and new business. No creative or innovative ideas or business plans, no joint partnerships, no investors. "

"You're the financier, Will. You of all people should know when it's time to put things out of their misery. Consider Stortford Castle asset-stripped!"

Just then, I received a text from Harris.

"Alicia?" my father slyly smiled.

"No, work. I'm needed in NY Monday. Bates."

And then it dawned on me. Bloody hell, I thought! Robert Bates. The solution to all my problems, including remaining in close proximity to Clark.

"You know, dad, if the Castle were truly being asset striped, you would need to sell off its parts or divisions," I reminded him.

My dad was outraged at my suggestion. "Are you seriously telling me I should sell the Castle, Will?"

I grinned, "Yeah, sell Stortford Castle. Sell it to me. I'll buy it."


	15. Chapter 15

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

**Some more text messages between sisters! **

Louisa: Treen, coming home soon?

Katrina: No, another late night. Study group in 5. Why?

Louisa: My life's in shambles. I'm in bed with the covers pulled over my head.

Katrina: It's only 7:30! That bad, huh?

Louisa: Today was a disaster. Pat dropped by the Buttered Bun, and I got flowers, then he got angry with me and even he and Frank had words. I'm surprised I still have a job.

Katrina: Pat? Dropped by the Buttered Bun? I thought he avoided the café altogether in fear the calorie count could be absorbed through osmosis! With flowers, you say? I hope he didn't propose!

Louisa: No! And here I thought you were supposed to be the smart sister!

Katrina: So what then?

Louisa: These were delivered right before lunch!

PICTURE:

TWO DOZEN LONG- STEM ROSES ENCASED IN BABY'S BREATH IN A LONG GLASS-ECHTED VASE

NEXT PICTURE:

CARD

In NYC on business and still thinking of you.

-Will

Katrina: Sexy city boy! You just met him Saturday. Today's Wednesday. Nice! Gotta hand it to him! Works fast!

Louisa: PAT WAS NOT HAPPY!

Katrina: Who cares about Pat? What about you? You can't tell me you didn't love them!

Louisa: No, of course not, they were BEAUTIFUL!

Katrina: Then what's the problem?

Louisa: Pat was really angry! I never saw him like that before.

Katrina: Pat could stand a little competition, you know. He takes you for granted. Weren't you at all flattered?

Louisa: I was! No one's ever sent me flowers before! Not even Pat.

Katrina: Well sexy city boy meant for you to enjoy them, or he wouldn't have sent them to you in the first place. Tell Pat to bugger off! Just because you've been with Pat for 7 years doesn't mean you should stay with him. You don't owe him a thing.

Louisa: Yeah, but Treen, I don't want to have to start over again.

Katrina: Why not?

Louisa: You know why. It was hard enough getting close to Pat to begin with. I don't think I could do it again.

Katrina: Aren't you the least bit curious about this guy? He certainly likes you!

Louisa: Yeah, I know he likes me! He's made that abundantly clear that even I can see that! But I don't know.

Katrina: Well, if it were me, I'd ditch Pat in a heartbeat! If only I had your drama with a sexy city boy pursuing me, sending me a bouquet of red roses! Silly girl! If you don't want him, send him my way! And tell him to wear the INVUCTUS AND ONLY THE INVUCTUS!

Louisa: Katrina Clark, you don't even know him!

Katrina: Doesn't matter! He sounds perfect … even for a fling!

Louisa: And give Tomo a baby brother or sister? Hmmmm?

Katrina: Hey, watch it!

Katrina: Did the flowers come from my shop?

Louisa: No, it was one of those online places.

Katrina: Too bad. We could have tracked down sexy city boy's last name. Maybe find some social media on him, a LinkedIn profile, Instagram! So why was Pat there to begin with?

Louisa: He had to use the loo.

Katrina: What was he randomly doing around the Buttered Bun though at that time of day though?

Louisa: He was out running 5 miles, and he's been on one of those all tea cleanses and took a laxative earlier. :(

Katrina: Eww, those cleanses aren't even healthy! Why would you stay with this idiot? Are you trying to punish yourself?

Louisa: It was awful, Treen! Frank's already told him not to come to the café sweaty because of his odor, and now this! He hit the roof! Frank literally banned him from stepping foot inside again! But then Pat saw the flowers and got so angry. He demanded to know who Will was!

Katrina: Well, what did you say?

Louisa: I thought fast. What would Katrina say I asked myself. Smart, right? So, I told him Will was a just a businessman, a patron who visited Stortford last week, and that he had just broken up with his girlfriend and misunderstood a sympathetic ear and a friendly smile.

Katrina: Did he buy it?

Louisa: Not really. He kept yelling at me. "How can you do this to me while I'm training for the single most important event in my career?" Then he accused me of being attention-seeking, of trying to make him jealous because I couldn't handle his rigorous training schedule. He also asked me if this guy meant anything to me.

Katrina: Well what did you say? I hope you told him to sod off!

Louisa: No, I told him I didn't even know this guy. It was all a mistake. But then Pat said, "Well then you don't need them, do you?" And he took them outside and threw them in the garbage on Main Street! And now I only have these bloody pictures to remember them by!

Katrina: That bastard! You're breaking up with him, right?

Louisa: No. Oh I don't know! I'm just angry at Pat right now for everything. The flowers! Frank!

Katrina: Have I told you how daft you are?! # !

Louisa: No, not for 2 whole days!

Katrina: Well, sexy city boy's sent you flowers. I'm sure it's not the last you've seen or heard of him! Have you thought about what you'll do it if he comes back?

Louisa: Not at all. I'm sure I'll smile nervously and look more stupid than I really am!

Katrina: I say go for it if he shows up! That's what I would do!

Louisa: I'm not you, Treen!

Katrina: Well, just pretend you are then and enjoy yourself!

Louisa: I'm so confused.

Katrina: Well, then sexy city boy's got a shot, doesn't he? Gotta go. The group is all here.


	16. Chapter 16

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

It was late Thursday afternoon, quarter to four, when I left the Castle Gift Shop keys in hand. I was the new owner of Stortford Castle, the ink barely dry, and I was bursting with excitement to see Louisa Clark again and to share my secret and future plans with her and only her. Not even my parents knew what I had in mind. Albeit a bit premature, I hoped Louisa's response rivaled my own feelings towards my new project, that she would be particularly receptive and open to my relocation. And if at all possible, that such a reaction promised that at the very least fondness could perhaps one day forebode desire then real love.

I watched as the bustling school crowd vacated the café. Kids horsing around with one another, interacting lovingly with their parents, even pets. Parents deep in conversation, no doubt about arranging play dates and upcoming school events, homework, and frivolous school yard tittle tattle. I was envious of them. I longed to be one of them engaged in those mundane activities, to share my life with a little one or two, even maybe three someday.

The Gift Shop steps overlooked the Buttered Bun, and from my vantage point, I could see Louisa busily at work busing littered tables. I admired her from the distance. Hearts again, I thought! A fitted black jumper with white hearts, a short red skater skirt, black tights and shiny red pumps that made her legs look long and lean. I wanted to come up behind her and slink my arms around her waist. However, I had to remind myself: Will, she's not your girlfriend – yet.

The bell chimed as I stepped inside and alerted Louisa to my presence.

"Will, hi!" she exclaimed from the middle of the café floor, beaming with a smile so bright you could follow as a beacon in the night. I was hoping for a warm welcome, but this was beyond my expectations.

It was good to see her. It was really good to see her. I had traveled from London to NYC back to London in a week and a half, and all I wanted was to come home to Stortford again.

We stood in silence gazing at one another for what seemed like an eternity. It was anything but awkward. In fact, it was quite telling. Maybe it was the bouquet of red roses. Maybe it was the passage of time. But I could tell by the glimmer in her eyes that during our short time apart her feelings for me intensified, that I had been on her mind as much as she had been on mine.

"Did you miss me, Clark?" I teased.

She giggled, her skin flushed with embarrassment. "What if I said no?" she teased back returning my grin.

"No? Not even a bit?" I held my fingers up emphasizing my playfulness.

"Mmmmm … well, maybe just your Invictus cologne!"

Ah, she was on fire. "My cologne again, Clark? Huh? Surprised you know its name."

"I do know the name! " she boasted. "It's very masculine," she added giggling, biting her lip as she stared at her shiny red pumps.

"Oh, is that right, Clark?" I asked in a whispered voice. I could no longer conceal my affections. I was both smitten and aroused.

My response caught her off guard, and she immediately tried to backpedal.

"Well," she stated as if trying to reset to the previous more playful tone, "What if I told you I didn't need you here, that I bought a small bottle of Invictus to smell anytime I want?"

"Then if that's the case, Louisa, I would say you totally missed me, you liar!" I roared in laughter.

"Not even close! You're completely delusional, you know," she shot back in jest.

"Me? Delusional? You're the one buying a bottle of my cologne in my absence! What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Total coincidence, I'll have you know!" she protested, smiling ear to ear.

I challenged her. "And what if I said I didn't believe you?"

"You'll just have to take my word for it or else," she nonchalantly quipped back.

"Or else what, Clark?"

"Or else I'll …," she thought for a few seconds then continued. "I know. I'll turn into your favorite Mad Queen and punish you." With that, she broke into a fit of laughter.

"Oh, this is getting interesting! Continue, Clark. What would you do to me?" I found myself hopelessly flirting with her, and I was dying for a witty comeback.

"No, I'm not answering that," she insisted, unable to stop her giggling.

"Why?" I asked egging her on.

"Why? Because I think I've already said too much already is why!" she cooed, shaking her head with tears in her eyes from laughing.

"On the contrary," I argued, "You haven't said nearly enough!"

"You're so terrible!" she cried! "I feel so bad. I really shouldn't encourage you!"

"Don't apologize, Clark." I said with a straight face. "Now do go on and tell me what you would do! You shouldn't tease me as such!" I warned half-mockingly.

"Ok, then I would give you a first class ticket back to London on one of my dragons!"

I was taken aback – horrified – and I didn't know if she was serious or not. "Clark, I'm completely crushed. Would you really cast me back to London and be done with me?" I wondered anxiously.

"Well, no, not really," she confessed, now grinning. "You're very entertaining to keep around. And …"

"And what?" I waited with bated breath.

"And not half bad looking either," she said trying hard to conceal a smile.

"Not half bad looking, you say?" I mimicked her.

"Better than average, I guess! Well, I don't know. Maybe." she joked shrugging.

"I will have you know, Louisa Clark, there is nothing average about me!" I found myself daringly professing.

She had just finished dabbing her eyes dry from laughing when she burst into another fit of giggles, this time holding onto the chair in front of her.

"Louisa, are you laughing AT me? I inquired in disbelief.

She was red as a beet, tears streaming down her face and nodding her head yes.

"Well, Clark! This is a first. This is usually not the reaction I evoke from women."

I took a chance and leaned in whispering, "What's so funny, Clark?"

"You, "she stammered through her giggles. "You're very cute, and I laugh when I get nervous, ok?"

"I've noticed," I replied in a soft voice.

When she regained composure, Louisa began bussing tables again, glancing back several times giggling nervously knowing she was being admired.

"So is this what city boys do in London cafés? Loiter?" she was coy, questioning me to break the silence.

"Only when they talk to pretty girls," I flirtatiously responded.

She blushed and continued working. I began to help her clean up.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"What's it look like I'm doing, Clark?"

"But you don't have to," she protested.

"I'll help you clear," I offered. "If you want me to?"

She flashed a wide and telling smile back at me, then lowered her eyes and blushed a deeper shade of pink. "Ok," she whispered.

"See, that way we can still talk and get your work done." I added.

"Yeah," she said giving me the eye.

"Louisa, did you get my flowers?" I asked gently while carrying the bus tub to the next table.

"Oh, Pat was not happy!" she replied.

"Patrick's Running Man?"

"Yeah."

"You know, Louisa, I didn't send them to Running Man to make him happy. I sent them to you to make you happy. Did you like them?"

She stopped and looked up at me with a radiant smile. "I did! I loved them! Did you know no one's ever sent me flowers before?"

"Funny, that is. Never, you say?" I wondered aloud.

"Never a one," she said shrugging with a ridiculous smile on her face, her eye brows wiggling.

"Not Running Man?"

"No, but those ARE from him." She gestured to a small bouquet of rainbow colored Gerber daisies sitting at the edge of the counter.

"Gerber daisies. Definitely says I love you." I sarcastically remarked.

"Yeah, well, they're an apology for our argument last week."

I had to inquire. "Over my flowers?"

"Yeah, partly. But Pat couldn't afford more. He's really sunk a lot of his money into training for the Viking Nordic Triathlon he's entered."

It hurt me to see her trying to defend Running Man.

"Louisa, sounds to me like Running Man puts himself first," I observed.

"That's what Treena, my sister, says," she reluctantly admitted.

"She's right, you know." I concluded.

She responded with a weak smile then quickly changed the topic.

"So, Will," she said in her usual cheerful manner, "You never did say. What brings you back to Stortford so soon?"

"More business,'" I lightheartedly quipped in laughter.

"What's so funny?" she inquisitively replied.

"Can I share a secret with you, Clark?"

She grinned mischievously and nodded yes.

"As of 3pm today, I'm the new owner of Stortford Castle!" I chuckled.


	17. Chapter 17

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

Louisa was frozen in shock. "You're what?" she said incredulously, looking up at me with a bizarre expression on her face, her eyebrows recessed and furrowed, her mouth agape in bewilderment. I could tell she was trying to process it all, but couldn't make heads or tails of it, as it defied the facts as she knew them.

I repeated myself. "I'm the new owner of Stortford Castle, Clark."

"I thought I heard you right," she responded, still befuddled by my news. "But how is that possible?"

I took her hand and guided her to the nearest clean table.

"Here, sit," I instructed as I took the seat adjacent to her. "Let me explain. It's all good, Clark." I squeezed her hand and gave her a reassuring smile.

I was bursting with my news and couldn't wait to share it all with her, especially my detailed plans for Stortford Castle, and to see if she might see a future with me.

"Today," I started," I purchased the Castle and its grounds, and …"

Louisa interrupted. "You can do that?" she asked stunned.

"Yes, Clark, I can do that!" I laughed heartily. Louisa was beautiful, simply adorable when confused, I thought.

"But the Castle's been in the Traynor family for at least 2 centuries now!" she stated, unconvinced that what I was telling her was true.

I took her hand in mine again and began to soothingly caress the back of her hand with my thumb, making wide sweeping circular motions.

I looked her in the eyes and held her gaze smiling. "Louisa, I convinced my father to sell it to me."

"Your father?" she stammered, now looking downright puzzled.

"Yes, my father," I answered.

A look of panic flashed across her face, her eyes shot wide open, her expressive eye brows pinned high across her forehead. She released my hand and gasped," Wait, you're the Traynor boy!"

"Clark, I'm hardly a boy!" I mused.

Horrified, I watched her mouth in disbelief, "Oh God, Will Bloody Traynor sent me flowers! NOOOOOOO!"

I reached for her hand once more and brought her gaze back to mine. "Now Clark," I calmly asked, "Did you just mouth 'Oh God, Will Bloody Traynor sent me flowers' in horrifying disbelief?"

"I did," she guiltily admitted with a ridiculous smile on her face.

"Shhhhhhh," I said trying to soothe her again. "Why would you say such a thing?"

"Why? What would you want with me? Pat's always telling me I'm lucky I can toast the tea cakes?"

"Don't do that to yourself, Clark. You are a beautiful, chatty and engaging young woman! Who wouldn't want to be with you?" A radiant smile quickly returned to her face, and I was beginning to think that I and only I could elicit such a response.

I lowered my voice and gently spoke giving her hand yet another soft squeeze. "And please do yourself a favor, " I urged. "Stop listening to Running Man. He's a complete arse. You would be better off without him, and I'm not saying that just because I'm insanely jealous you're his girlfriend and not mine."

"You're jealous? Of Pat?" she giggled suspiciously. "Really?"

"Really," I declared. "AND, you should think long and hard as to how you'll answer WHEN I ask you to dinner."

"Ok," she nodded, a smile forming on her face, her eyes twinkling.

"Ok, you'll have dinner with me then?" I quipped, figuring I should live boldly.

"You're so terrible!" she giggled. "But yes, I promise l will think long and hard about it."

"Fair enough, Clark," I responded. "So would you like to hear more about the Castle?

"Yes!" she resondedly stated.

"I tell you this in confidence, Louisa, so please do not repeat this to anyone. Ok?"

She agreed, zipping her lips with an imaginary key.

"My father was planning on closing the Castle for good! He's apparently running off with his mistress _to travel the world_," I said with sarcasm.

"Oh no, Will! That's awful!"

"Yes, I know, particularly for my mum."

"No, wait! Closing the Castle for good? But that would destroy all the businesses. We need the tourists."

"Well, Clark, I made that exact argument to my father, and he wouldn't budge. So, I talked him into selling it to me." I grinned like the mastermind I am!

"So, you're the new manager of the Castle?"

"Not exactly, Clark! But I have big plans for the Castle."

"Plans? But what about your job in London?" she inquired, her interest piqued.

"Well, my company doesn't want to lose me, so I'll be staying on as a consultant for Lewins. However, I'll be relocating back home to Stortford."

I paused briefly before continuing. "How do you feel about that? Me relocating, that is. Is that ok with you, Clark?"

She blushed then smiled.

"Ok?" I intimated.

"Ok," she responded softly, shaking her head yes and biting her lower lip.

"Good!" I found myself grinning from ear to ear.

"So, I plan on renovating the old stable attached to Granta House and living there. You should see the view of the Castle from the stable, Clark. It's incredible! Perfect to be exact! " I couldn't help shoot my eyes to hers, reminiscing of my dreams where I first met Louisa Clark.

"And the Castle?" she asked, eager to learn more.

"Ah, yes the Castle, Clark! I'm turning it into a meeting hall and hotel. An all-year destination. From the specifications, the architect thinks we'll have enough for 18-22 guest rooms, 2 meeting rooms, private dining, and a large dining hall. It'll be the only one of it's kind in southern England. Weddings, conferences, conventions, a tourist destination spot. "

I smiled at Louisa, who was listening intently, hanging on my every word . "So what do you think so far, Clark?"

She was quite impressed, even mesmerized. "Wow, you've really thought this through, haven't you?"

"I have, Clark. I truly have. There's more."

"More?" she giggled.

"A golf course, tennis courts, gardens, outdoor dining areas."

"You're really reinventing Stortford Castle, Will!"

"I'm hoping to reinvent Stortford, Louisa. My dad had no vision, and he was not much of a businessman. He let that Castle and the grounds go. There's so much work to be done. But I'm looking to utilize as many of the locals as possible. Contractors, electricians, plumbers, carpenters, other artisans. And once operational, business partnerships with the locals – florist, meat and fruit markets, the marina."

"Really?"

"Really. My dad told me nothing was salvageable, that I should let everything die."

"That's really awful, Will. I'm sorry."

"And I will prove him wrong!" I said as my eyes fixated on our hands still conjoined as one. "My life in London for the past year has been completely unsatisfying," I admitted. " I used to live for the thrill and excitement of it all. Corporate takeovers, London girls, extreme sports. Clark, do you know I've climbed 4 of the Seven Summits of the world?

"Really?" she cried in wonder.

I nodded. "Last summer I made my 50th solo jump skydiving."

"That's crazy!"

"I know! I even snowboard. Halfpipe. Giant slalom. Big Air. Slopestyle."

"Jesus, Will, that's insane. So, what do you think happened?"

"One morning I just woke up, and it … it wasn't enough anymore," I revealed, holding her gaze until she began to giggle nervously. She had no idea the things I wanted to do to her in that moment.

She slipped her hand from mine and crossing her arms against her chest, she inquired, "So, do you think this little Castle project of yours will satisfy you then?"

"I do," I softly replied, still staring longingly at her. "To build something on my own from the ground up. It' s exactly the challenge, the thrill, the reward I've been seeking."

Within seconds thunder began to clap, blue lightning lit up the sky and winds howled.

"Louisa," Frank shouted from the kitchen. "It's 4:50. Close up and get home before the weather gets worse! They're predicting heavy rains and winds. Moved in earlier than expected."

She smiled and shrugged at me, then made last minute preparations to clean up and close down.

"Clark, you're not planning on walking home in the rain, are you?" I asked concerned.

"I walk in rain or shine. I'll be fine," she cheerfully reassured me.

"I'll drive you home," I offered.

She stood, waving me off. "Oh, no. You don't have to. I wouldn't want to inconvenience you."

"Clark, I'll be right back. I'm fetching my car and driving you home," I informed her. "Wait here, that's an order."

**_If you get a chance, Google "Amberly Castle!" My inspiration. So gorgeous! would love to know if you are enjoying! _**


	18. Chapter 18

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN **

LOUISA: Jesus Christ, Treen! I'm in big trouble!

TREENA: What now?

LOUISA: HE'S BACK

TREENA: Sexy city boy?

LOUISA: YES!

TREENA: Persistent bloke! Someone's got it bad!

LOUISA: I don't have long, but he HAS a name!

TREENA: Daft girl! We all have names! Well, what is it?

LOUISA: Will Traynor! ! ! ! ! !

TREENA : As in THE TRAYNORS? STORTFORD CASTLE?

TREENA: Wait, the Traynor boy?

LOUISA: YES! ! ! !That's exactly what I said! AND as he so aptly reminded me, HE'S NOT A BOY ANYMORE!

TREENA: Sexy, rich, AND sarcastic! What's there not to like!

LOUISA: HE JUST BOUGHT STORTFORD CASTLE FROM HIS DAD AND HE'S MOVING HERE!

TREENA : So sexy city boy has a name AND he's just become the village's most eligible bachelor!

LOUISA: I'm serious!

TREENA: So am I !

LOUISA: It's not business as usual at the Castle! He's sinking a lot of $ into this, planning on turning it into a hotel/meeting hall conference center with tennis courts and a golf course, outside dining. A year-round destination he called it!

TREENA: Really? Jobs in Stortford?

LOUISA: YES! And he's talking about using all local builders and artisans and making local business partnerships!

TREENA: God knows Stortford needs it!

TREENA: Sexy, rich, sarcastic AND smart! I like him!

LOUISA: I like him A LOT too

TREENA: What's the problem then?

LOUISA : I REALLY, REALLY LIKE HIM

TREENA : How's that a problem?

LOUISA: No, Treen! I mean I REALLY, REALLY, REALLY LIKE HIM

TREENA: How old are you?

LOUISA: Ok, yeah, but you should see him, Treen! I want to stand in the pouring rain right now and cool off!

LOUISA: Treen?

LOUISA: Treen?

LOUISA: Where did you go?

TREENA: I just looked him up online, and he's SEXY as hell!

LOUISA: Did you know he's an experienced skydiver, snowboarder and mountain climber?

TREENA: I do now! Just reading an article about him in some business magazine! Now I need to cool off in the rain too!

LOUISA: OOOOOOO, send me the link!

TREENA: He sounds too perfect. Are you sure there's nothing wrong with him?

LOUISA: Why?

TREENA: Because he fancies you!

TREENA: Maybe he's like Christian Bale in American Psycho!

LOUISA: You're awful!

LOUISA: He's taking me home tonight!

TREENA: Taking you home? Its about time you had some proper loving, sister dear!

LOUISA: Katrina Clark! Get your mind out of the gutter!

LOUISA: Drive me home because of the rain NOT take me home WITH HIM. He's a gentleman, I'll have you know!

TREENA: Too bad!

LOUISA: You're so annoying!

TREENA: You started it! Needing to "cool off in the rain"! Besides, after 7 years with Pat, I'm sure you're sex starved!

LOUISA: KATRINA CLARK! ! !

TREENA: Are you breaking up with Pat?

LOUISA: I don't know! What if I do and I regret it if things don't work out with Will?

TREENA: No one knows how anything will work out. All you can do is give it a shot.

LOUISA: I'm afraid!

LOUISA: Will's not exactly Patrick. He's used to racy London girls, and it took me 2 years to finally be _with _Pat. I don't know if Will would be as patient.

TREENA: I SAY GO FOR IT! DUMP PAT! What do you have to lose?

LOUISA: That's you, Treen! Besides, don't you think it's a bit awkward it happened on his property?

TREENA: Don't hold that against him, you fool!

LOUISA: I know!

LOUISA: I just really, really like him is all! He's always making me laugh and smile, and when we banter I swear I even sound smart sometimes!

TREENA: OOOOOOOOO that I have to see!

LOUISA: HE'S BACK AND HE'S SOAKED

TREENA: Sounds like the perfect time to get him out of his clothes!

LOUISA: You have such a dirty mind! I'm going now!

TREENA: Enjoy, sister dear! Enjoy!


	19. Chapter 19

**CHAPTER NINETEEN **

The more time I spent with Louisa Clark, the more I was convinced I was in love with her, the more confident I was in disclosing my feelings.

I took a short cut through the Castle grounds to retrieve my SUV at Granta House and quickly headed back to the Buttered Bun to beat the approaching storm and to meet up with her again.

Louisa was very aware of my interest, but I wanted her to know that my intentions were serious, that in fact Running Man had a real competitor for her heart. I had sent flowers and visited her, but I wanted to court her, in more meaningful and thoughtful gestures and actions that would put forth a full display of my worth – not as a man of means but rather a man of exceptional character and passion, something Paddy the Triathlon Prince certainly lacked.

En route back I began mulling over ideas for romantic overtures. High up on my list was a day trip to London visiting the Victoria and Albert Museum, a continuation of my daydream mocking Abstract Art with the real Clark, her giggling echoing throughout the galleries offending the more ardent museum crowd shall we say, sharing with her some of my favorite works of art I meant to when my fantasy was so abruptly interrupted by Alicia that evening, and most importantly, watching her awestruck in the Costume galleries. I wanted to have lunch with her on the Thames and witness her running wild at Macculloch & Wallis and other well- known fabric shops on Goldhawk Road. There would be moonlit picnics on the Castle lawn, guided ghost tours of the Castle recanting old legends, a home cooked dinner at Granta House on an evening my mum stayed overnight in London complete with a tour of secret passageways and salacious Traynor lore, stringed concertos and symphonies, perhaps even skydiving and other sports I might convince her to try her hand at. I imagined visits to the Castle construction site, wearing hardhats and safely guiding her way, exciting walk-throughs and reveals of virtual designs and step-by- step progress, reveling in her visceral reactions, private, intimate celebrations unveiling the finished project. I envisioned myself seeking her counsel on matters of the Castle hotel, concocting visions of us loud and obnoxious shopping for mattresses, pillows, sheets, robes and more, taste-testing decadent foods and drinks for menus, stimulating our senses and out- of- control.

My mind wandered with possibilities. I thought I might even plan a romantic candlelight dinner in the center of the hedge maze lined with candles and rose petals!

I was lucky to find parking 2 doors from the Buttered Bun in front of the hair salon. The wind was wiping, the rain blowing in all directions. For the 2 minutes it took me to walk from my SUV to the café I was soaked.

I re-entered the café to find Clark texting and noticed that she had reapplied her red lipstick. I couldn't help but smirk. I proceeded to fold up my dripping brolly, placing it in the stand near the door, and slicked my wet hair back away from my eyes as I approached her.

"Are you ready to go?" I inquired smiling.

"You're wet!" she gushed, turning every shade of pink imaginable. She could barely look me in the eyes.

"Louisa Clark, it's raining cats and dogs outside or haven't you noticed?" I asked, eying her up and down to discern the reason for her flushed cheeks.

"What are you doing?" she cried exasperated, followed by giggles. Ah yes, her tell. What was it she said? 'I laugh when I get nervous.' So what was she nervous about?

"Trying to figure out what's so amusing about my being wet and windblown?" I answered in a low suspicious voice.

"Nothing," she lied giggling, her eyes falling on my drenched henley shirt with a coy smile, her mischievous eyebrows wiggling giving her away.

I followed her gaze then looked back up at her with a grin. "Nothing you say? Doesn't look like nothing to me, Clark."

"Ok, fine," she burst out laughing, fessing up. "You found me out. Happy?"

"I am," I admitted dastardly. "IF you tell me what's so interesting ABOUT my wet henley though."

"No!" she cried in disbelief, smacking my arm.

"Why not?" I questioned laughing. "You're the one undressing me with your eyes!" I teased.

Shocked by my candidness, I found her once again scrambling for a comeback. "Well, no, no. It was just clingy!"

"Clingy?" I repeated, mocking her.

She fell into a fit of giggles like so many other times before.

"You do realize, Louisa, that is what happens when water soaks fabric one is wearing, right?

"You should just be grateful it wasn't your swim trunks!" she blurted.

"Is that right?" I playfully remarked. "Care to explain yourself, Clark?"

"You know, I don't think so, but thank you for the opportunity," she jested back, biting her lip self consciously and somewhat embarrassed.

I leaned in to her left side, whispering in her ear as her silky hair grazed my cheek and lips. "Louisa, you're incredibly sexy when you're silly," I told her. I had to, more like I was dying to.

She was speechless, her eyes looking up into mine. "Oh," she sighed in a hushed voice, too stunned to say anything.

I held her gaze and in soft tone muttered, "You should never be embarrassed to tell me such things."

She began to giggle, her eyes still transfixed with mine.

"See, you're doing it again," I pointed out, dropping my voice an octave lower.

Her giggles were replaced by a look of surprise that flashed across her face. She stood motionless, mouth agape, mesmerized.

I hesitated briefly.

"Louisa, let me make myself explicitly clear," I murmured as I gently brushed my eyelashes against her hair. "You would be remiss to mistake my interest as harmless flirting. I am completely available and for your taking."

I could swear I heard the faintest of gasps escape her lips.

She remained standing there next to me, our bodies close but barely touching.

"I'm not," she lamented and sighed.

I leaned in closer, resting my closed eyes against her hair. "Maybe soon?" I suggested.

"Maybe soon," she whispered back. "Maybe soon."

I wanted her to know that no matter what, she was worth my time and patience, and I would wait as long as it took her to be free. I took a deep breath and confessed," I can be a patient man, Clark."

"That's what I'm counting on," she said relieved in the softest of voices.

We lingered a few moments in this intimate tableau as the storm intensified outside the café.

"I should get you home before the weather gets any worse." I spoke gently in her ear again.

"Yes, you probably should," she breathlessly replied.

I escorted Louisa to my car under my golf umbrella, shielding her body as best I could from the cold rain. She let out a giggle and watched intently as I checked her seatbelt was secure before leaving.

"Louisa," I announced as I was driving north on Main Street," I have a surprise for you."

"Another?" she asked giddy with wonderment. "What is it?"

I hit the control and grinned.

"You'll see. Think of it as one of many incentives to go out with me." I teased.

"Tell me," she begged as it finally hit.

The look on her face was priceless. "OMG, Will Traynor, you have heated car seats!"


	20. Chapter 20

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

I found myself stranded in the unlikeliest of places, taking refuge from a torrential downpour in the Clark home, sopping wet in their tiny enclosed front entryway.

We were standing face to face, both giddy laughing from our mad dash from the SUV parked in front of her house to her door. I remember thinking that the one thing I needed right this minute was a hot shower, and then I forgot my manners. I forgot I was in Clark's parents' home. I forgot we may not be alone. Memories of rain pouring down on us brought me back to that shower I desperately craved. She looked beautiful, her lips red, her hair wet now wavy, similar to the night of the exhibit.

I got handsy when I promised myself I wouldn't, a momentary lapse of judgement. I intertwined my fingers in hers and placed my other hand on her hip, drawing her body close to me. I wanted to peel every last garment from her body, my lips and hands savoring her moist skin beneath. I wanted to lift her, wrapping her legs around me. I liked towering over her, my chest against hers, cradling her body in my arms, looking down into her eyes. Dream Will hadn't the physical capability to experience this, but I did, and it was grand.

I regained control of myself for a mere second to garner there wasn't an iota of protest from her eyes, her hands or her lips. I leaned in to feel her breath against my lips, waiting for one last chance for her to deny me which never came. But I couldn't go through with it. I didn't want to kiss another man's girlfriend. I wanted to kiss my girlfriend. And the last thing I wanted was to prolong her attachment to Running Man out of a sense of guilt for kissing me.

I stopped myself. I promised her I would be patient. And it was a promise I intended to keep. I gave her my word, and I was paranoid to push her and jeopardize my pursuit of her.

I closed my eyes and bowed my head. It was agony not to reach out and draw her lips to mine. I slid my hand from hers and gently lifted her chin to meet my eyes now opened.

"Clark," I started, "I don't … I don't want to share you. AND …"

"AND?" she repeated, anxiously awaiting for my response.

"I promised you I would be a patient man."

"Yeah," she sighed, a mixture of disappointment and relief.

I nodded my head, the two of us staring at one another in agreement.

"Lou, luv! Is that you?" I heard as a shadowy figure approached the inner door, the opaque glass sheltering the last seconds of a very private moment.

Louisa jumped from my grasp as the door opened.

"I thought that was you, luv! " Mrs. Clark uttered not yet aware of my presence. "Dad's stuck at the hardware store, and both granddad and Thomas are napping."

"Mum!" she cried cheerfully, trying to conceal her embarrassment.

"Oh, and you brought company I see," she said pleasantly, looking up at me confused.

I pursed my lips smiling politely but felt self-conscious standing there beside Louisa. I knew what Mrs. Clark was thinking. No, I was not Patrick. Just who was I? And why was Louisa with me? I began to feel nervous, a first for me in front of a parent. Perhaps it was because Louisa was important to me, she was no fling or conquest. Perhaps it was because I stood in her entryway with ruminations of defiling her daughter minutes ago. Or, perhaps it was most likely a combination of both.

Louisa introduced me wearing a wide, toothy smile while overemphasizing each word . "Mum, this my friend, Will. He gave me a ride home in the storm."

Mrs. Clark listened intently to Louisa, and in a friendly tone expressed her gratitude. "Well, that was very kind of you, driving Lou home."

"My pleasure, Mrs. Clark," I replied blushing. My 'friend' Will. I knew it was rubbish. Clark knew it was rubbish, and most certainly, Mrs. Clark knew it was rubbish.

"Oh AND, Mum, Will has heated car seats!"

"Ah, so that explains it all!" Mrs. Clark jested still curious, darting her eyes from Louisa to me and back again.

Louisa looked up at me, bursting with excitement. "Can I tell my mum? Will, please?" she begged.

I laughed, grinning ear to ear. "Go ahead, Clark. I don't think I could stop you anyway," I said. I was thrilled that she was so eager to share my news. I took it to mean she wanted me to stick around!

"Mum, Will bought the Castle!"

"I hope you didn't get hit by lightning, luv!"

"No, Mum! THIS is Will Traynor. He bought the Castle from his dad, and he's turning it into Stortford Castle Hotel and Meeting Hall!." Clark never failed to amaze me. The name so simple yet so perfect for my new venture. I would have to compliment her on it when we were alone.

Mrs. Clark was stunned. "Oh my!" she marveled. "That's some undertaking, Mr. Traynor!"

Louisa interjected before I could reply. "No, Mum! It's _just_ Will. Will's not like that," she corrected her mother, her eyes and nose wiggling together.

"Louisa's right. It's just Will, Mrs. Clark. And I'm definitely up for the challenge," I chuckled, my eyes falling adoringly on Louisa.

Why hide it, I thought? For who's benefit? Mrs. Clark was astute. She already knew I was an _interested _suitor.

"Please call me Josie, dear," Mrs. Clark said warmly waving me in."Come in, come in," she gestured. "Let me get you some fresh towels. Wait here."

"Thank you, Josie," I replied as Louisa and I exchanged nervous smiles.

I followed Louisa and her mother into the doorway of the interior of the house and watched as Josie climbed the steps to retrieve some towels.

"Your mum seems nice," I commented to Clark as she smiled in return. "My mum is a nightmare."

"Is she really that bad?" she inquired incredulously.

"In one word, Clark, YES! Camila Traynor is BOTH overbearing and overprotective." I stressed.

Louisa innocently tried to defend my mother without having any prior knowledge of Camila Traynor. "I'm sure she's only that way because she loves you and wants what's best for you."

"Maybe, Clark," I responded. I couldn't help myself. I may have promised to be a patient man and not to push her to break up with Running Man, but I never promised to temper showing her my feelings. I took her hand back in mine and gazing into her eyes said, "I'd like to think I know what's best for me." She let out a nervous giggle, her bashful eyes darting away from mine. I knew my mum wouldn't approve of a relationship with Louisa Clark no matter how insanely happy I was, that it would be a source of contention for the long haul. Wrong pedigree. Wrong class. Wrong education. Wrong background. I wanted Clark to know upfront I didn't care what my mum thought, I knew what was best for me. And Louisa Clark was it.

Mrs. Clark shouted from the second floor, "Be down in a minute, luv! Granddad's awake. Just giving him his meds."

"OK, Mum!" Louisa answered.

"Lou, ask Will if he'd like to change into one of Dad's clean work clothes if he'd like!"

I nodded my head no.

"Will's fine, Mum!" she yelled back flushed.

"He really _is _fine," I heard Louisa mutter under her breath sighing.

I wanted to tease her again. I wanted to take her other hand in mine and back her slowly into a wall and tell her there were so many fun things we could do wet. With her mum due back any minute, I didn't want to put her in an awkward position. Well, I did want to put her in many awkward positions, but not _that_ particular one and with her mum. I considered myself a good guy, but I was still a man with needs and wants, and I wanted Louisa Clark. I was struggling to behave myself. Yes, we were not here alone and there was a Patrick, but I was worried that I could be too physical and get carried away with her if I allowed myself. I had to remind myself that she had no intimate knowledge of Dream Will the way I had of Dream Clark. I was already involved, invested. Her involvement, her investment just beginning. Too fast, too soon was not the best idea. I had to slow it down. In moderation I told myself.

Still holding her hand, I leaned forward and spoke softly," I heard that, Clark." I looked down to see her blush and giggle, her eyes fixated on the floor. As much as I wanted Louisa Clark physically, I wanted her to know I loved her more. I leaned in once more, planting a single gentle kiss on her forehead. It felt right to touch her, to show her genuine affection, and in this perfect moment she was all mine. I smirked as I stared at her lovingly, her face lit up into an incredible smile, her eyes still looking down.

I realized then or at least I reasoned with myself that the simple gestures of affection were fair game, that there could be touch between us in our current state of parameters, that such light touches could produce lingering effects of intimacy, a harbinger of a potential once unleashed as unbridled passion. I could not deny myself that touch, not when I had been in love with Dream Clark for a year, not when I was predisposed to fall madly in love with the real Louisa Clark who now stood before me. Running Man, I decided, would have to deal. I had no intention of backing off.

Clark allowed me these simple pleasures of touch, and I never took myself as a greedy man, but I wanted more. I wanted so desperately to hold her this evening. I was brimming with excitement sharing my good news that I was now faced with the reality of disappointing her. Although I negotiated an out with my company, I was required to transition my team successfully with it's new head, bloody Rupert who came off as an arrogant arse and who was neither as sharp nor finessed as I was in business or with people. Saddled with Rupert and having to close 2 last major acquisitions, I was looking at another 5 weeks before I would call Stortford my home again. It would mean 70 hour work weeks for another 5 weeks that would make it almost impossible for me to leave London and visit Clark. I needed to convince her that I wouldn't forget her. I needed to convince her that the 5 weeks would pass quickly. I needed to convince her that it was my every intention to carry on with her through modern technology, that my heart was breaking to leave her only ever this one time to complete my London obligations, that not a day would pass that she wouldn't occupy my head and heart, that I wanted to be home with her than in my London offices with the likes of Rupert Freshwell! And most importantly, I needed to convince Clark as delicately as possible to not to fall back into old habits with Running Man in my absence. I just hope she didn't hate me for leaving again, my biggest fear that I'd push her back into the arms of Running Man.

It hit me then that in fact I had not dropped off my bags at Granta House before signing the paperwork, the change in title for Stortford Castle. I did have a change of clothes in my SUV. I assumed Louisa would change as soon as her mom returned with towels for us, and I needed to be dry and able to embrace her the way I wanted when I broke the bad news.

"Louisa," I informed her, "I just remembered I left my bag in my car. I'm going to run out and retrieve it, so I can change my clothes."

"But it's still raining hard," she argued, concerned.

"It's just to the sidewalk and back," I said trying to assuage her worries. "I'll be right back, Clark."


	21. Chapter 21

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE**

I met Louisa outside the second floor bathroom, both of us dry and in a change of fresh clothes.

Giggling nervously, she apologized. "My mum insists on serving you tea and the strawberry shortcake she baked last night."

"What did you say, Clark?" I muttered, distracted by the image before me. My eyes alive taking her all in.

She repeated herself. " Mum insists on tea and having you try her fresh strawberry shortcake."

Her voice filled the narrow hallway like a vacuum, undistinguishable to me as I continued to stare.

"Will?" she asked. "Are you ok?" I saw the look of concern on her face and still could not respond. I was only roused from my trance by the gentle touch of her hand on my forearm, an electric current pulsating through me.

"I am," I replied breathlessly. "You're stunning." There. I said it. I meant it.

"Wha…?" She didn't even manage to complete the word, omitting the "t". A range of emotions on her face played out before me. She looked at me first like I was raving mad, next in disbelief and then in utter confusion.

"Doubtful," she stated, looking over herself self- consciously and skeptical.

"Don't do that to yourself," I told her, bewitched by her presence. It was the second time I had told her this, the second time she had put herself down in front of me. I hated Running Man for programming her low opinion of herself.

She began to fret. Her eyebrows furrowed, complete with the appearance of a worry line. "Will, are you feeling sick?"

"No," I answered in a hushed voice, nodding my head. "You look perfect."

She mimicked me incredulously. "Perfect? In a sweatshirt and banded capris joggers?"

"Especially," I said smiling as I gazed at her. "Clark, how tall are you?"

"5'2"," she answered. "Why?"

I pursed my lips at the perfection that she was. My eyes danced marveling at her. The top of her head barely reaching my chin. She was petite in stature and frame, both delicate and soft, as compared to my own body, so much taller and broader as I towered over her. What was it she called herself in my dreams? One of the invisibles. She was definitely not invisible to me now, even in a gray crew sweatshirt embellished with a gold heart and black banded capris joggers. She certainly liked her hearts, didn't she, I thought.

Yet that wasn't entirely it. There was something else, something more.

She questioned me again. "Are you sure you aren't feeling sick? Should I run and get my mum?"

"Absolutely not, Clark," I whispered, leaning my forehead against hers.

Louisa began to giggle, drawing my eyes to her feet. "Don't tell me it's my slippers! Do you have a bee fetish?"

"I do now!" I howled laughing. Her bare feet encased in plush yellow and black striped bee slippers with protruding antennae and wings and an embroidered smiling face! Classic Clark!

"You're so naughty," she exclaimed in a whispering voice, her mischievous smile surging a rush of adrenaline in me.

"I know," I cried. I could not control my laughter.

"Shhhhhhhhhh," she said trying to quiet me. "My granddad's had a bad cold and is sleeping, and my mum will kill me if we wake my 5 year old nephew who's finally napping in the other room!"

"I'm sorry, Clark , I will be more mindful," I promised, trying to check my own laughter.

"Well, what is it then?" she insisted on knowing.

"Your hair," I confessed.

"My hair? But I let it dry naturally. It's all wavy and awful looking!" She looked at me incredulously and began to run her fingers through her hair doing a double take and asking, "You seriously like it this way?"

I was truthful. "I do, it's beautiful." She was a vision come true. Dream Clark on the beach that fateful evening, her hair curling from the moistness of the ocean air. Daydream Clark from the exhibit, her hair wavy and cascading over her shoulders. The only thing missing was a barrette to fasten one side from her ear. I made a mental note. I would have to buy her a stunning piece to wear once I returned to London. Something to fit her personality, something she would cherish. Five more weeks in London. I could not think of going another day without her.

"Pat HATES my hair like this! Tells me I look like a mousy rat!"

I was startled by her admission. Running Man was certainly opinionated and free with "running" his mouth, no matter the consequences and without any regard to Louisa's feelings. I had fallen out of "lust" with Alicia and yet it had taken me months upon months upon months to tell her how awful she truly was because I was still a gentleman. This guy? He was a rubbish boyfriend! I wanted to ask her if "Patrick" ever had anything nice to say but didn't. The answer was most likely no, and I wanted her to re-focus on me.

"I'm not Patrick," I reminded her. It was the first time I called Running Man by his given name, humanizing him for the sake of comparing the two of us without interjecting my own biased feelings towards him.

"I know," she cheerfully remarked, now beaming.

"Well, I think you look beautiful, Clark," I commented, grinning ear to ear . "Bee slippers, wavy hair and all!"

"Josie Clark is waiting for us, you know. I caution you not to get on her bad side," she jested.

"I wouldn't dream of it, Clark. Lead the way," I instructed.


	22. Chapter 22

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO**

I quickly discovered who Louisa Clark inherited her chattiness from. Josie Clark, who may I say, was an exemplary baker and quite the temptress. I ate not one _but_ two heaping pieces of her strawberry shortcake and was tempted to ask for another as I recanted my plans for Stortford Castle and Meeting Hall, my father's subsequent travel, omitting of course his infidelity and his travel companion, as well as answered questions about myself, my work in London, and naturally how Louisa and I met.

Mrs. Clark seemed to take great satisfaction from the pleasure I derived from her dessert I devoured. She kept urging me, "Go on, luv, if you want another don't be afraid to ask." She lifted the serving knife and pretended to cut another slice without piercing the frosting, hoping for me to give her the go-ahead.

"I'm supposed to be having dinner with my parents tonight at 8," I reasoned aloud, licking my lips still eying up the cake.

I looked over at Louisa who sat to my left on the living room couch and couldn't stop giggling as I continued to interact with her mum. "Don't look to me for help with Josie Clark," she cried, dabbing tears from her eyes! "You're on your own!"

I felt guilty for wanting more. "I wouldn't feel right about not leaving any for anyone else," I told Mrs. Clark.

Louisa and I watched as she cut what would have been 1/3 of the whole cake and announced," That's Dad's for later!"

Josie brought the serving knife back to the remainder of the cake and offered me another piece. "You only get one life, Will. It's actually your job to live it as fully as possible."

I indulged her, and I indulged myself. "Ok, you've convinced me," I laughed lightheartedly. "But only half of that." I was a weak man, a very, very weak man.

"Ok," she smiled proudly as a peacock as she got her way and passed me my third piece, a very slender slice.

It _was _the most delicious and the fluffiest strawberry shortcake I had ever eaten. And I told Josie that.

"It's a family trick. You have to beat it on all three speeds! You start on low, then increase to medium for a bit, then high. You switch back between high and medium for the duration until the end when you decrease to low and climb back up to high, then finish with what I call air beating."

"Air beating?" I asked.

Louisa explained, "The beaters barely touch the mixture. Mum does it that way all the time, and everything she makes tastes so light and fluffy!"

"Everything like this?" I inquired as I savored the final few mouthfuls of this last piece of cake. In that moment, I wished, I prayed there would be invitations to try more.

"Yes, just like that!" Louisa bellylaughed, repositioning herself and curling up on the couch, now facing me and giggling as she watched me finish my strawberry shortcake in glee.

I addressed her as I licked clean my fork." You don't understand, Clark, my mum never cooked let alone baked. She had maids who did that for us but none was ever as good!"

"Well, you found your way here now, dear! Don't be a stranger!" Mrs. Clarke piped in, giving me a wink. Yes, an unofficial but open invite!

"Too bad you weren't here in the summer, Will! Mum makes this simple yet divine cool whip-cream cheese pie that's insane! A brick of cream cheese, a tub of cool whip, and a cup of sugar! She garnishes it with cocoa powder and lets it set in the fridge overnight. Oh … AND …. of course, how could I forget! She adds her secret ingredient to all her desserts!"

"I KNEW IT!" I exclaimed. "I knew I tasted something but couldn't place it!"

"Should we tell him, Lou?" her mum jested.

"Really, mum? I don't know ….. " Louisa teased, holding me in suspense.

"Go on, luv! We'll make this one and one exception only!"

Louisa sat up and came closer to me on the couch, staring into my eyes. She was giddy, her face and eyes red from laughing so hard. I looked her square in the eyes waiting for the big reveal, and I couldn't remember a time when I had such a fun time. Ski trips, power sailing, wind surfing with my mates. Brazilian Carnival, Mardi Gras in New Orleans, New Years in London and Hong Kong. They all had nothing on Louisa Clark. My friends and business associates thought I was crazy for leaving Lewins and returning to my hometown of Stortford. They didn't understand I wasn't giving up the perfect life, I was gaining the perfect life.

She giggled some more before her face lit up into the cheekiest smile I ever witnessed and glanced over at Mrs. Clark who wore a similar Cheshire grin, nodding her permission yes. She darted her eyes mischievously around as if the walls had ears, then whispered, "A capful of Godiva liqueur!"

"Seriously?" I was shocked. "It's mouthwatering!"

Both Clark women grinned sheepishly at one another.

"Mum even puts it our milkshakes!"

I had just consumed 2 and a half pieces of strawberry shortcake and found myself salivating for a milkshake, capful of Godiva.

As if Josie Clark could read minds, she generously offered me a milkshake.

"Capful of Godiva?" I pathetically inquired.

"I can do better than that milkshake, Will!" she playfully smiled. "Have you ever had a frozen hot chocolate?"

"No, but I want one now … if it's not too much trouble," I gushed like a school boy in anticipation!

Louisa chimed in. "It's amazing, but I warn you – you may suffer brain freeze!"

"Brain freeze sounds worth it, Clark!" I quipped back.

"Two frozen hot chocolates coming up," Mrs. Clark announced as she disappeared into the kitchen.

I was alone with Louisa once again, and the two of us couldn't help but stare at one another and smile. I didn't remember a time when I was so welcome into anyone's home. I was envious of Louisa, her mom so generous, warm and hospitable. My mum such a stark contrast. Unfortunately, I already knew my mum wouldn't be as hospitable to Louisa at Granta House.

"I'm having the best time with you and your mum, Clark!

"I can tell!" she smirked, raising her eyebrows.

We heard the sound of a blender coming from the back of the house.

"My mum should be back with our frozen hot chocolates any second now. You're going to love it!" she boasted.

I was unable to peel my eyes off her. "Any second, you say Clark?"

"Any second," she reiterated in the softest voice.

With only seconds to spare, I reached over to tuck one side of her wavy hair behind her ear, just like Dream Clark. Louisa began to giggle, her skin becoming flush. She lowered her eyes then met my gaze one last time before Mrs. Clark resurfaced with our drinks. And despite her mum's presence, Clark and I continued to steal glances at one another.

I took one long sip of my frozen hot chocolate and praised Mrs. Clark just before my brain freeze set in. "It's amazing, Josie! Thank you!"

"Are you sure you wouldn't like to reconsider and stay for dinner, luv? We'll be eating late because Lou's dad got stuck in the storm."

"I would love to, Josie, but my parents are expecting me. A raincheck perhaps?" I suggested. In all honesty, I would have rather stayed with the Clarks than have dinner with my mum and dad.

She seemed delighted by my answer, a promise for dinner, and eager at another chance to make food for me . "Definitely! I'll have to remind Lou to invite you over for dinner. I'll make anything you'd like. Pot roast, beef stew, lemon chicken, chicken parmigiana, stuffed peppers, lasagna, baked ziti. Fancy anything, dear?"

"I'll leave that up to you, Josie!" I chuckled. "Everything sounds perfect, I couldn't choose!"

Louisa was slowly sipping, giggling her way through her frozen hot chocolate at her mom's fan girl reaction to me!

"Outstanding! We'll START with the pot roast then!"

"Start?" Louisa mouthed at me now hysterical!

Mrs. Clark appeared too zealous, too overjoyed and too willing to entice me with food, offering to make me anything, if not all of her dishes. I wondered if Patrick had received similar treatment, this type of hospitality. Josie was entirely too eager in my case, I thought. Which means she must not be a fan of Patrick's.

I went for it!

"So, which is Patrick's favorite?" I asked Josie.

Her countenance quickly changed, and Clark began to choke on her frozen hot chocolate.

"Ohhhh! Have you met Pat?" she sighed disenchanted.

"Not officially," I replied smiling politely. "But I did see him stomp out of the Stadium in a huff."

"Yes, that's Pat!" Josie grimaced. "Unfortunately, he won't eat ANY of my food." She seemed disappointed, as if rejecting her food was rejecting her personally. I, for one, was quite content consuming anything and everything Mrs. Clark was inclined to offer me.

"Funny that is," I mocked Patrick, complimenting her. "You're an excellent cook!"

Josie Clark was indeed flattered, and that was all it seemed to take to get the skinny on my competition. Once Mrs. Clark began, there was no stopping her much to Louisa's chagrin.

"Mum, please don't," she begged, her face wincing.

"Well, you see, Will," she divulged," Pat only eats 'HEALTHY', always counting calories, insinuates my good meals will clog our arteries and kill us all of heart disease and diabetes. He prefers eating beans and bird seed instead of my delicious homemade food!"

"Mum," Louisa shouted morbidly embarrassed, "It's flax and chia seeds not bird seed!"

"That's not what I call eating, luv!"

"Pat says they're healthy for you!" Louisa insisted, poorly trying to defend Running Man.

"You know, Will, Pat wasn't always so fit! He was quite pudgy when Lou started dating him 7 years ago. Didn't have any trouble eating my food back then! When he started to lose weight, she found large vats of fat cream, you know that stuff with caffeine in them, in the trunk of his car!"

"Mum! You're embarrassing me! Stop!" Louisa pleaded, burying her face in a decorative pillow. I couldn't help but laugh and try to soothe her, my arm already around her shoulders, giving her a reassuringly squeeze.

"Clark, you have to admit it is rather funny."

"I know!" she cried, muffled through the pillow.

Mrs. Clark shook her head, laughing at Louisa. "Lou, nothing you should be embarrassed about! Pat does it all on his own!"

"I know, Mum!" Louisa moaned from behind the pillow once again.

Mrs. Clark proceeded to walk over to the window to check on the storm. "Rain's letting up, but the street's still flooded. It'll probably be another half hour before the water rreceds and you can leave, Will dear. Looks like you're stuck with us till then!"

I had an idea to kill some time AND steal Louisa alone.

"Clark, why don't you show me those Halloween costumes you're working on sewing?"

"You really want to see them?" she asked surprised, finally emerging from the pillow where her face had been buried.

"Very much so," I answered.


	23. Chapter 23

**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE**

"Clark, can I finally come in?" I whispered in front of her closed attic door. I had been waiting a full five minutes for her on the steps to her attic, while she did God knows what up there.

"No, I'm not ready yet," she said giggling.

I leaned in towards the door and playfully asked, "Well, are you by any chance changing into something more comfortable?"

"No!" she cried, opening the door momentarily. She poked only her head out, the rest of her body hidden behind the door. "I'm already in something more comfortable. What else could possibly be more comfortable than capris joggers and a sweatshirt?" she jested, her eyes wide open and waiting for a witty response.

I met her face to face and lowered my voice an octave below a whisper. "Do you really want me to answer that, Clark?"

"Welllllllllllll," she sang out in a flirty voice ,"I suppose not, but it would be fun to hear your answer."

"Clark, are you serious? You do realize anything I say right now will make me sound like a complete pervert, right?"

"Hmmmmm," she replied thinking over my problem, the wheels turning in her head. " Ok, so let's say I give you a pass this time."

"A pass? It's not like I can take it back once it's been said aloud."

"Hmmmmmmmm …. right. But go ahead anyway!" she urged me on, her eyes widening in anticipation, a giddy smile forming in her face .

"Are you mad, Clark?"

"Oh come on! I never took _you_, Will Traynor, as being _demure_!" she chided me, trying to persuade me to tell give her an answer.

I fell for her ploy.

I defended myself rigorously. " Demure? Definitely not a fitting description of me. I fancy myself quite the lover, Clark!" As soon as I said it, I regretted it. I could feel my temperature rising, a crimson flush enveloping my face. Even my ears were burning and feeling twitchy. It was worse than the first time I blurted something similar earlier in the day.

Louisa began to giggle at me. "Is that so? I wouldn't know anything about that!" she mocked me suggestively.

My mind began to wander at this point. She seemed different now. Freer and more overt, wanting a preview of the sights that stimulated me. She was certainly enjoying the effect she was having on me as much as I was! Don't get me wrong, I relished her friskiness, but I had to wonder if it was the Godiva liqueur in her frozen hot chocolate making her act differently or something more. What exactly was happening? Was Patrick on his way out? Was it possible I would be returning to London with the expectation that an impending relationship was awaiting my return home? I couldn't be sure. I played along in hopes of ascertaining just where I stood.

Although I felt exposed and embarrassed, I felt bloody exhilarated and alive at that moment. Was Clark hinting she wanted to be with me? Why else would she be so flirty, so frisky asking about such things?

"What's gotten into you, Clark?" I asked just as suggestively, following her lead.

"Nothing," she replied coyly.

I licked my lips and leaning in closer to her ear used the most seductive voice I could garner to tease her. "Clark, don't tell me you're a Godiva liqueur one cap drunk?"

"No," she cried out, her mouth forming an o in shock, followed by more giggling. The sound of her response thrilled me like an adrenaline junkie and reverberated throughout my body. I wanted her more now than ever, even more than when I stood in her small entryway an hour ago. And, I would do anything to gain access to her attic now. I had become completely aroused, and in my most private thoughts, I secretly wished that if I could promise her that I could be quiet that she would allow me to make passionate love to her behind that attic door.

She composed herself just long enough in between intervals of nervous giggling to assure me that she was indeed not a one cap drunk. "But," she confessed with a sporadic giggle and a twinkle in her eye," I really like you, Will, and I would really like to spend more time with you."

My heart fluttered, and breathing a deep sigh of relief I found myself misty eyed and smiling. So Running Man was indeed _on _his way out. When or how I didn't know, but it was more than I had realistically hoped for. Like me with Alicia, it may take some time getting up the nerve to actually break things off, and with a little finesse, undo the subsequent attachments, especially in Louisa's case. Seven years was a long time to be involved with someone, but I would wait. I promised her as much. I gazed into her eyes and in a soft voice spoke. "I really want to spend more time with you too, Louisa."

Louisa beamed then cleared her throat, giggling again. "Sooooooooooooo, are you going to answer my question?"

"No, not a chance," I told her.

"Oh, why?" she begged, pressing on. "Come on, Will! Just say it!"

I cautioned her bluntly. "Clark, if I answer you will no longer think of me as a gentleman."

"It's the price of admission, so you have no choice." She proudly bragged, wiggling her eyebrows, stepping out and closing the door behind her.

"You're holding my access ransom?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed.

"Fine," I conceded. "Against my better judgement, Clark, I will tell you. A free pass, you said?"

"A free pass," she nodded yes and waited eagerly, a wild look in her eyes.

I could not look her straight in the face and divulge, verbally state, a part of my dream world, even with the real Clark. I closed my eyes murmuring, "Strappy ties."

"Like spaghetti straps?" she asked perplexed.

"No, Clark!" I continued murmuring. "As in short nighties with spaghetti strap ties!"

She seemed stunned, disappointed by my answer. "That's it?"

"Clark," I gestured with wide eyes," To be undone with my teeth!"

"Oooooooooooooo!" she gasped, smiling embarrassed.

I wrapped my arms around Louisa in a warm embrace and began chuckling over the irony of Clark's naivety of Dream Clark's crafty creations that had made such a vivid and lasting impression on me. I held her head close and gently rocked her back and forth. "Laugh, Clark. It's funny," I implored her. "Are you ready to show me your costumes?"


	24. Chapter 24

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR**

Archie had insisted he would decorate the annex in addition to agreeing to oversee the interior design of the Castle. Both he and Gwen believed my ultra white minimalistic flat in London was too stark and that I needed some warmth in Stortford. A Scandinavian bachelor pad he called it. A modern rustic look for a renovated stable. I hadn't told Gwen I had found Clark; I thought better to leave it for a surprise in person. But neither my London flat nor Archie's vision would do for a home I'd one day hope to share with Louisa Clark. I knew he was an accomplished set designer, but it was clear from the moment I crossed the threshold that only her vision would suffice.

When I stepped into Louisa's attic, I was transported to a seaside cottage. Cozy, light and airy. Her own hideaway that doubled as a bedroom and a work space, split in 2 by a 4 panel white wooden room divider.

Like Louisa Clark, it was perfection.

The attic was well lit. Recessed lighting, one after the other, ran from one end to the other revealing the original hardwood floors. Smooth white shiplap lined the narrow walls below low eaves painted the same shade of white. To my right built in under eaves wardrobes with doors and drawers extended the length of the house, some open displaying the varying patterns, prints, and colors of the distinct style of Louisa Clark. To my left a collection of straw hats and bags hung on knobs and hooks, the use of crown molding attached creatively served as shoe racks for her eclectic styles. The rest of the wall space was adorned by family photos and various framed artworks no doubt by none other than her 5 year old nephew.

"You love the seaside I see," I stated, mesmerized by a collection of shells in apothecary jars on white wicker end tables at either side of her bed and lanterns, some distressed wood, some metal, in different colors and sizes, that graced a tall chest of drawers. A pair of gray and white horizontal striped curtains hung on both the front and rear windows.

"I love Tenby," she responded smiling, a bit bashful now that I was standing in her room amongst her most intimate things. "It's the happiest place on Earth!"

"Not Disneyland?" I teased.

"No, not Disneyland, although I've never been!" she giggled. " But my aunt used to live in Tenby, and my family and I used to go there on summer holiday every year to visit her when I was little."

She took a remote control lying on her bed and lit the candles in the lanterns adding to the ambiance.

"It's beautiful, Clark," I remarked, still looking around, enchanted by her private quarters away from the real world.

"Thanks, but the shiplap's not real. It's only paintable wallpaper, and my dad built the wardrobes for me and installed the lights himself." She giggled more. "Decorating on a budget!" She was unbelievably adorable, and I wondered how I might control myself. 'With effort' I kept repeating to myself over and over.

I took a closer look at the craftsmanship of the wardrobes, grazing my hand over the finished wood. The quality of the workmanship was outstanding. I noticed Clark's bed had the very distinct same markings as the wardrobes. "By any chance, did your dad also make your storage bed?" I inquired.

"He did!" she exclaimed, impressed I noticed. "It was a thank you, first for giving up my room when Granddad moved in with us after his stroke and then for giving up my box room downstairs for Thomas when Treena's room became too small for the both of them."

"Your dad's a talented carpenter." I commented.

"Thanks!" Clark replied beaming proudly. She took my hand and led me around her bed to the back window, the poorest lit area of the attic with the stormy evening sky now set as a backdrop, pointing her finger to the patio below. "My dad made those Adirondack chairs. He does all his work in that shed out back over there. You know, I painted those chairs!"

"Did you, Clark?" I asked lovingly. There was nothing like Louisa Clark sharing her life with you. She was so open, so honest and so sweet unlike the Alicias of the world who always had an agenda, always playing an angle. Not so with Louisa.

"I paint _all _of the chairs!" she said smiling, staring into my eyes.

"I'm sure you're a great help to your dad." I was sincere. I meant it.

"Since the factory closed, he's been making the Adirondack chairs and selling them at the Hailsbury Market on Saturdays. They're not like the plastic kind at the stores, and we found people will pay good money for them. He even took orders this summer. It's really kept us afloat this year until my dad can find something," she confessed.

"Your dad takes orders, you say?"

"Mmmmhmmm," she nodded.

"Do you think he'd be interested in fulfilling some custom-made orders for the Castle?"

Louisa was shocked, her eyes bulging. "Really?"

"Yes, why is that so shocking? Your dad's an amazing craftsman, Clark! And as I told you earlier today, I have every intention of adding the local artisan touch to Stortford Castle!"

She was smiling ear to ear. "I'll let my dad know you're interested!"

"Ok," I said, finding myself grinning ear to ear as well. I remained lost in Louisa's smile, and I was feeling pretty damn good right now. She had just confessed minutes ago that she wanted to spend more time with me. When I lifted my eyes, I noticed that just beyond Louisa was a coat rack where a short, peach silk Chinese robe brightly embroidered with geishas in pink, red and green kimonos hung on a hanger. I motioned with my head, drawing her attention behind her. There was no need to whisper now that we were alone and secluded. "I would consider that something more comfortable."

She blushed, her skin indistinguishable from the flushed rosy colors within the robe. She was unable to make eye contact with me at first, but lifted them ever so seductively to meet mine. "But it doesn't match my bee slippers," she cleverly protested.

"Everything in my imagination matches your little bee slippers, Clark!" I jested smartly, lobbying on behalf of the Chinese robe and my strappy tie fantasies.

Was I really going to wait 5 whole weeks to kiss her? Ah, screw it, I thought. I lifted her chin, leaned in and took a step towards her. But before I knew it, I heard a loud crack under my foot as I stepped down.

"Oh, no!" she cried. "I think you just found Thomas's Lego Harry Potter that's gone missing up here! He's going to be so upset."

I immediately stepped off the shattered Lego figure, only for Louisa to breath a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank God, it was only Neville Longbottom!"

Perhaps fate had intervened and stopped our first kiss. Perhaps something more epic was intended instead. I had every intention of waiting, of allowing Clark to make a clean break from Running Man, of giving her a clear conscience to walk away without guilt that might otherwise play on her emotions and lead her to keep Running Man around in some capacity or other. The more I was around her, the harder it was not to kiss her, to deny what felt natural. I would have to do better. The ironic thing was that Neville reminded me of Running Man for some unknown reason. Perhaps crushing the likeness of Patrick was symbolic, foreshadowing that if I waited all would turn out in my favor.

"Do you have a problem with Neville Longbottom?" Clark joked as she quickly cleaned up the crushed remnants of Running Man's Lego doppelganger from the floor and discarded them in the tiny garbage can next to her bed.

"Absolutely hate him," I answered softly but honestly.

She was shocked by my response. "What exactly has Neville done to you?" she cooed laughing, her lips pursed waiting for an answer.

"He _still technically _has the girl I want," I playfully admitted, casting my eyes sideways in her direction.

"Not for long," she teased then grew serious as she hopped up on her bed sitting up on her knees. She paused processing her thoughts with a small grin. "Will, I need to ask you something."

Oh Clark, I thought! Why do you have to sit on your bed? No. No. No. Off.

I closed my eyes to block the image of Louisa Clark on her bed grinning. Everything she did drove me crazy, although I had no idea if she was faintly aware of that fact. I wanted to draw her lips passionately to mine, and in a frenzy strip her of every last garment from her body but for those little bee slippers. Those she could keep on along with her grin.

Running Man _had_ to go.

I could not regain complete composure this time. Taking a deep breath, I reopened my eyes to see her grin had morphed into a very naughty one. My lips quivered as I answered her. "Absolutely, Clark. But you cannot sit on your bed like that."

"Why?" she inquired.

"Why? Too much visual stimulation, Clark! That's why!" I mustered what little restraint I had left and bit my lip to maintain control of myself as I gently lifted Louisa off her bed and back onto her feet.

"Yes, like that _little action_ will certainly help, now won't it?" she smirked, playfully reprimanding me, inhaling my Invictus cologne deeply.

"Did you really buy a bottle of Invictus?" I whispered in her ear.

"I did!" she declared, continuing to smirk.

"Show it to me," I instructed her. I was shamelessly yet blissfully flirting with her again. Louisa did as I asked. She walked over to her tall dresser, opened its top drawer, and removed a small bottle of Invictus cologne giggling as she proudly held it up.

"So you keep it amongst your delicates I see, Clark. How very telling!" I commented in a provocative voice.

"Delicates?" she mocked me softly, a giggle escaping her lips. "In this house, Mr. Traynor, we are plainspoken people. We just say underwear."

Oh, she was a fascinating, little creature. Sweet yet so sultry!

I grabbed her by the small of her back with both hands, holding her tightly to my body as she gasped and giggled in delight. "I have no self control left," I told her as a matter of fact in her ear.

"I can see that!" she laughed.

"You need to dump Running Man," I reiterated at least twice as I gently swayed her. I could no longer fight saying it.

"Welllllllllll," she sang. "That's what I wanted to ask about before!"

I eased my embrace only enough to look her in the face. "So, let me get this straight, Clark. You wanted to ask me how to dump your boyfriend while you were on your bed grinning at me?"

"Yes," she cooed giggling, burying her head in my chest embarassed. "I've never broken up with anyone before," I heard her muffled voice say.

"You are really something else, Clark! A bit of a strange request, but in this case I'm happy to oblige," I jested.

I eased my embrace once again so that we were face to face. "First, be blunt and honest."

"Well, how did you do it with Alicia?" she earnestly questioned me.

"I told her I hated her and that she would make a bad mother."

Her eyes grew wide in shock. "No way!" she cried in disbelief. "You did? That's awful!"

"It was the truth, Clark. And secondly, don't encourage them. Don't talk about remaining friends, don't talk about taking a break. Leave no room for error. Make a clean break. It's over."

"Right," she replied. "Be honest, don't encourage them, make a clean break."

"Exactly, Clark!"

"Sooooooo Paaaaaaaaatttttt, you're extremely mean to me AND _very _rude to my family …. Do you know he makes me pay my own way on holiday, Will?

"Standup guy!" I sarcastically quipped.

"And when Pat first started going to the gym and losing weight, he would order the same meal as I would and then scrape half of it onto _my_ plate. So because there was always a lot of food left on mine, the servers would either _chide_ me about not enjoying my meal or _accuse_ me of having an eating disorder! And he would just sit there and laugh _at_ my expense!"

"He did that?"

She nodded yes, disgusted.

"That's disgraceful, Clark! Why didn't you get rid of him then?"

"Habit? Bad taste? He was safe, I suppose."

"What do you mean safe, Clark?" I wondered inquisitively.

"Nothing," she lied, that eerie sadness sweeping over her face the same as it did when I previously inquired about her not attending Manchester. She played it off. "I don't know why I said that."

I didn't want to press her too hard, but seeing that sadness pained me. There was something downright grim and sinister to it. "Are you ok, Clark?" I asked concerned.

"Yeah," she said faking a smile, nodding. "Do you know what Pat says about my sewing?"

"No, tell me." I couldn't wait to hear this.

"He calls my sewing machine 'a little toy', and anytime I make something or even buy fabric, he reminds me I shouldn't be playing with toys, especially since I can't even toast the tea cakes right he says."

"He discourages and belittles you?" This guy was a real piece of work, even worse than I thought. I was getting angry hearing about how badly she's been treated all these years.

"Yeah," she grimaced.

"I hope you know there's no excuse for him, Clark?"

"I do," she agreed, shrugging. "Did you know he actually earns a living as a personal trainer and life coach? _And_, he's been named Local Entrepreneur of the Year twice in a row? "

Now I was the one in disbelief. I had seen Running Man in action at the track the day I met Clark , first with his teammates, then with Clark exiting the field. How "Mr. Motivation" earned a living by tearing people down alluded me! "How did that happen? Did he pay someone off."

"No, but his uncle is the head of the local Merchant's Council," Louisa informed me.

"So do you know what you'll say to Running Man?"

She nodded yes. "You're arrogant, obnoxious, rude, mean – a complete arse! AND I have a hot, new city guy," she joked, winking at me.

"Errrrrr Clark, you might want to think about dropping that last part," I suggested to her. "Don't suggest you've cheated on him. It'll make it all the more uglier."

"Right!" she said smiling now. "I don't even know when I'll see Pat again. Sometimes it's once a week, sometimes not at all. He's always_ 'training'."_

_And he ignores her too! Brilliant! It was in my humble opinion that Louisa Clark should have told Running Man to piss off a long time ago._

"Will, I have a confession to make?"

"Go on, Clark." I didn't know what to expect at this point.

"Well, Patrick was at the café the day your flowers came, and he got really mad and threw every last one of them out. Those Gerber daisies were his apology." She winced, waiting for my reaction.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. As if Running Man couldn't get any worse he did!

"Those Gerber daisies were a pathetic symbol of his wounded pride, Clark! His cheap, lame way of laying claim to you, of preserving the status quo!"

"Are you mad?" she asked, taking a step back out of my embrace.

"I am! Those were your flowers for you to do as you wished with. You could have given them away if you didn't want them, but he had no right to take them from you." I was furious with Running Man, and I wanted to wrap that tri suit right around his scrawny, little neck.

"He doesn't deserve you," I let her know in no uncertain terms.

"That's what my mum and Treena say."

"Promise me you won't wait too long to get rid of him, Clark?" I urged her. I knew in my own experience with Alicia that I procrastinated, I didn't want to deal with the unpleasantness of the nature of breaking up and its fallout, so I let our relationship linger on for too long than it should have. But in Louisa's case, Running Man mistreated her, and it wasn't right. None of what I was hearing was right.

"That shouldn't be too hard. Pat insults me every chance he gets, so I'll just do it the first chance I get insulted!" she cheerfully smiled nodding her head.

It was upsetting to learn just what an arse Running Man was to Clark. It pained me to imagine him tearing her down just to build himself up, to make himself feel important. I needed her to know my concern. "Clark, I can't stand the idea of you subjecting yourself to him for a second longer. In fact, I can't stand the thought of anyone mistreating you!"

"Thank you," she responded touched by how much I cared for her well-being.

"Not when you can do SO much better for yourself," I grinned, referencing myself.

She erupted into a fit of giggles, her face turning red from laughing. "Will Traynor, you're absolutely shameless! You'll say anything to get my attention!"

I leaned in and kissed Louisa's cheek ever so softly. "Well, do I have it?" I whispered.

"YES," she giggled back. "My undivided attention!"

"I'm dying to see your delightful costumes, Clark. Will you show me?" I asked gently, my lips still touching her soft skin.

"Yes, but close your eyes," she instructed, meeting and lowering her eyes from mine. A bashful smile graced her face, the last thing I remembered before doing as she requested. I closed my eyes and let her lead me by the hand behind that room divider to her work space.

"No peeking" she warned.

"I'm not," I insisted chuckling. "You have no idea how much I've behaved myself today, Clark."

"That stunt lifting me off my bed told me plenty, hhhhmmmmmm?" she mocked, turning and re- positioning me. "There," she said satisfied. "You can open your eyes now!"

I was speechless, astonished by what lay before me.

A portable metal garment rack on wheels with easily over 10 fanciful costumes in varying sizes, mostly children's with a few adults. Some in bright colors and soft pastels, others in jewel-tones and rich dark hues. The smallest an infant's pumpkin tutu dress with a matching headband in orange and green. There was a unicorn, a mermaid, a fairy, a princess, a Queen of Hearts gown, even an elaborate peacock with feathers and beads! There was tulle and organza, netting and other mesh fabric, an array of silky materials I couldn't identify as either one or another, glitter and ribbons, flowers and bows.

"Is everything ok?" she inquired nervously when I failed to utter a word. "Will, say something."

I glanced at her and asked, "Can I touch them?"

"Sure," she answered, watching as I perused the rack, mesmerized by the complexity of the designs and their execution.

"Clark, these are amazing!"

"You really like them?" she exclaimed, her face lit up with excitement.

"I do, Clark! Where did you learn to sew_ like that_ without any formal training?"

"Daphne! She taught me to sew on some of the most difficult fabric first like silk, taffeta …. oh and chiffon. It's really hard. You've got to pull them taut or the fabric puckers, and you also need to use different kinds of threads with different materials. And what I don't know, I You Tube and experiment until I get it right."

There was no excuse for Running Man's behavior, and I was in no way giving him the benefit of the doubt, but was it at all possible that he was so conceited and so ego-centric that he dismissed her work without even looking at it? But to see her designs as I'm seeing them now and still discourage her? What kind of man would do such a thing?

"Has Running Man seen exactly what you can do?" I was curious to know. I wanted to know.

"Oh, he's seen alright. He calls them my arts and crafts!"

"And he still discourages you?" I was perplexed, truly dumbfounded as to how cruel Running Man had been given the quality of her work.

"Yes," she answered meekly.

Louisa noticed I began to seethe and winced once more.

"I'm sorry he was so dismissive of you, Clark. Patrick's a sorry excuse for a man I'll have you know! Do you realize your costumes could easily sell in London boutiques for a good price?"

She was stunned by my high praise. "Really? You think?"

"I do, Clark. Are you on marketplace online? Have you even considered it?"

She admitted she hadn't. "No, I never. I only really ever thought of selling the costumes for Christmas money."

I'm sure she hadn't considered selling online or to a shop, I thought. I'm sure Patrick convinced her that she was wasting her time, that no one would be interested in buying her creations anyway, that she had nothing to offer anyone, and more specifically that she should never dream big and live boldly. She deserved that.

"Well, don't just stand there Clark!" I smirked. "Let's get you a shop online. I want to know all about your costumes: who your clients are, what materials you use, the costs of the materials, the difficulty of the pieces, the time it takes to design and sew."


	25. Chapter 25

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE**

"My life's completely ruined! Will broke up with me!" I sobbed to Madame Olga, my London tarot card reader since my sorority days. She had accurately predicted my rise in the department store as a buyer and guided me through crushing my competition to achieve the professional success I had today. She had even predicted Will would enter my life at a social gathering or party through a mutual acquaintance, my godmother Mary.

It had been several months since I was last here at her office. The cards had assauged my fears about Will's strange behavior in the last year. Madame Olga had first read that he was busy with work, conquering and climbing the corporate ladder, making tons of money and business contacts. A promotion looked to be in his future. But then yes, he fell into a bad cycle, a stagnant place she called it, uninterested and bored, daydreaming, and taking me for granted. She was right about it all! But never once did the cards indicate a breakup. In fact, the 9 of Swords kept coming up to indicate that my fears about another woman were unfounded. There was no Moon, no Tower, no 3 of Swords, no other female court cards showing such!

It was now almost 3 whole weeks since Will broke up with me during the evening of the museum exhibition.

"Why did you wait so long to come see me, dear?" Madame Olga asked, trying to comfort me.

I was still crying, barely able to speak. "I thought Will would come to his senses, but he won't even return my text messages or phone calls, not even at work."

"There, there. Don't give me too much information. Let's see what the cards have to say."

Madame O:

You in the World

9 of Wands

Alicia, you're at your witts' end.

Alicia:

I am, you're always right! Please read on.

Madame O:

What happened?

Empress/Queen of Cups/8 of Cups/Tower

There is another woman.

Alicia:

GOD NO! I KNEW IT!

Madame O.:

Your world was shattered. I'm so sorry. You were blindsided, shocked. The relationship you thought you had was an illusion. He just wasn't happy anymore, and he's in search for this woman who will make him happy. You are the Empress. Pampered, gorgeous, successful.

There's the other woman – the Queen of Cups, the woman he's drawn to, a woman he feels he needs to know. He wants to give her the loving cup.

Alicia:

Ask the cards why! Why?

Madame O:

Lets see what's going on.

Shadow Card: Ace of Swords

He's thinking differently now, he wants change. He's cut you off.

Knight of Cups /The High Priestess/Sun

Nothing you want to hear.

He's pursuing her, he's planning on asking her out or has already. He has a strong connection to her, and he sees her as his sunshine.

It's possible he even wants children with her and no one knows about her. She's a secret, and he's keeping it that way.

Shadow Card: 2 of Wands

He was very dissatisfied and wanted more out of life. He felt stuck. I'm sorry, I know this isn't what you want to hear.

Chariot/World/The High Priestess/4 of Pentacles

He decided she would make him happy and set out in the world to find this woman he has a strong connection to. 4 of Pentacles. Again, he's not sharing her or his interest in her with anyone. He's definitely keeping all the details close to the vest.

Alicia:

His mother's told me he's bought the family Castle and moving back to his hometown. Does this woman live in Stortford?

Madame O.:

Drawing one card.

Wheel of Fortune

Yes, fate has set this in motion. She lives in Stortford.

Alicia:

Who is she?

Madame O.:

The Fool/The Sun/Strength

She's quite unconventional and different, very cheerful and positive, and very strong and courageous.

Shadow Card:

King of Cups

She already has a boyfriend or husband.

Alicia:

I can't believe this is happening. I need to know how I can get him back. I can't eat, I can't sleep. My godmother is his mum's good friend and even his mum can't get through to him.

Madame O.:

How can you get him back?

7 of Swords/10 of Swords/Queen of Wands

Be clever and steal him back.

Alicia:

Well, how do I accomplish that then?

Madame O.:

Wheel of Fortune/Devil

You can set things in motion and lure him back with sex. Tempt him, seduce him.

Alicia:

I need to know if Will and I will get back together?

Madame O.:

Shadow Card: 4 of Pentacles

King of Swords/4 of Wands/Knight of Cups

You won't want to let Will go, I know that; however, be on the lookout, there's another man in your future. He could be a military or law man or even another financial advisor or banker, but he won't be creative or sarcastic like Will. He won't have that magnetic personality, that extreme sport-adventurist spirit.

Alicia:

If I call Will's mum Camilla myself, will she help me?

Madame O.:

Shadow Card: The World

She will definitely help you.

2 of Cups/4 of Wands/Wheel of Fortune

She will try to reconcile you two. The 4 of Wands depicts a Castle, and one of its meaning is home, so I think she'll suggest a visit to Stortford to see where things go.

Alicia:

Madame Olga, if I were to go to Stortford would you be available for phone readings?

Madame O.:

Yes, if you need me. Alicia, I know you have your heart set on Will, but remember be on the lookout for the King of Swords.


	26. Chapter 26

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX**

Much to my parents' chagrin, I was an hour late for our agreed-upon evening dinner at Granta House. "Don't wait, start without me" I texted 3 times before they did as I asked. My mum, however, still reeling with me over my breakup with Alicia kept shooting me text messages, one after the other. "Where could you have gone in Stortford and gotten caught up at this time of day?" "Honestly, Will, what could possibly be more important than keeping your dinner date with your parents?" When the interruptions finally took their toll and prohibited me from finishing setting up Louisa's Etsy shop, I returned my mum's texts. "Helping a friend with some business advice, well worth my time and effort," I wrote. My mum would have none of it. "A friend? You haven't even been back in Stortford long enough to make friends." I replied: "REMINDER: AM AN ADULT, MOTHER! Helping local artisan I met set up Etsy shop, family lost income when Lewins closed Beech, dad will be making custom orders for Castle. GO AWAY!" I learned that the only way to deal with my mother was to give her enough of a satisfactory answer she could accept and to unfortunately be direct and rude when doing so. That was the only way to shut her up and keep the peace. I knew Camila Traynor well! The last thing I needed was for her to find out about Louisa at this stage, to voice her opinion on the unsuitability of one Louisa Clark and for Louisa to find out or overhear and be so permanently scarred from such insensitive and unfounded criticism that it deterred her from ever getting involved with me at all. My mum was no gracious and welcoming Josie Clark.

Louisa and I made good use of what time we had in her attic. We talked about some basic business principles, mainly costs, pricing and profit. Once she introduced me to her Singer sewing machine and serger, affectionately called Bee and Honey, I automatically had the perfect name for her shop. Simplistic but clever. We set up her payment options and posted a mock listing to go over the how-to process. I suggested she take some time to look up similar shops to see how listings were marketed and staged and discussed ideas for her artisan biography. She assured me Treena, who was studying Marketing in university, would help her with that. In fact, she seemed particularly excited to be able to work on a joint project with her sister. Designer and Business Manager, she said! The final stage was branding which was as important as the product and the quality of the product itself. We perused other shops selling pre-made, unlicensed digital logos and found the most fitting one from an artist in Rome. An open black decorative scroll design with a black and yellow gold bee centered atop and the name of Louisa's shop in matching yellow gold lettering inside. It was inexpensive, only £ 35, but she refused to allow me to buy it for her as a present. She was proud unlike Alicia who had no problem charging her facial procedures and spa appointments to my credit cards! Louisa said she would gladly accept my business help and advice but not my money. I bought it for her regardless. I wanted her to have it and told her she could reimburse me out of the first profits she made. To that she agreed. I had her promise to forward me a copy of the file once the artisan personalized it with her shop's name and intended on having business cards made for her as a surprise.

I took particular interest in 2 of her latest creations. Both she made for herself and for her sister's upcoming birthday in October to replace older versions. One was an oversized makeup bag measuring about 11 ½" by 7" with a zipper enclosure, wristlet strap and keychain ring. Hot pink with white doodle hearts! Hearts again, should I expect anything else? The lining hot pink and white stripes. It was no ordinary makeup bag she informed me. It was designed exclusively for Treena after she had given birth to Thomas. Struggling to carry a nappy changing bag, snacks and bottles, a purse, her mobile, her keys, makeup and a baby/toddler, Louisa found a fix. Her design slipped flat into any diaper bag, and according to Louisa, Treena has had her make several over the years, especially as she returned to school and could easily also slip it into her school tote. The lining had inserts for makeup brushes sewn onto a zipped interior change pouch with its own credit card inserts inside. The other side had a larger zip feature with 2 pockets for a mobile and glasses. "Treena's said it's been a lifesaver, and I use it too, especially when I've been out with Thomas myself!" she admitted. The other item was a beautifully sewn and quilted large square tote, like so many fashion houses sell and market as weekender bags, that Louisa made for herself and her sister, a new school bag she called it. Black with white hearts and a black and white stripe lining with 2 interior pockets and a zip pouch. I had to convince Clark to give me a sample of each, and with her permission that I would approach a good friend of mine who ran a London boutique to see if she would be interested in carrying them. Kat was her name, and she was Mary Rawlinson's main competitor just down the street. I told Clark that she need not worry, that I myself would do any and all of the negotiations for her. Unfortunately, I had a good belly laugh at Clark's expense.

"Just how good of friends _are_ you and Kat?" she inquired, stumbling over her words in a panic.

"Are you jealous, Clark?" I teased, coaxing her onto my lap from her seat next to mine at her desk. She began to blush, embarassed. "You are, aren't you?" I whispered. She was adorable jealous. I let her squirm if only for my own amusement for just a second longer before brushing her hair behind her shoulder. "Come closer," I urged her, nestling my face in her neck.

She began to giggle. "Are you trying to distract me?"

"I am," I admitted bluntly in a soft voice. "Is it working?"

"No! Well …?"

"Good friends," I answered.

"_Is _she a tall leggy blonde?"

"Very much so, and I won't lie, she is an ex- girlfriend, Clark."

She looked positively upset. "Oh …," she sighed taking a deep breath, her body sagging in my arms.

"Oh, but nothing Clark! She has a husband I introduced her to and a 2 year old son!"

"Yeah, but you want your ex-girlfriend to sell my designs? Isn't that a bit weird?"

"No, why should it be? It shouldn't put you off. We've both moved on, and besides her boutique has a very loyal following and it continues to grow. If she likes your designs, it could work out really well for you," I argued.

"Well ummmm how long were you two together?" she mused, being quit transparent and nosy.

"Not any 7 years like someone I know!" I quipped back, making eye contact face to face before smirking.

"Ok, ok, ok," she giggled. "But just humor me."

"We were together on and off through grad school, ok?"

"So what happened? Why'd you break up?"

"Cause that's what people do, Clark! Does it really matter?

"I'd just like to know. You _are still_ friends with her. It's just awkward, at least for me. I mean, I don't intend on being friends with Pat."

"Ah Clark, you have nothing to worry about, even _if_ she's named her son after me!" I shrugged. I couldn't believe I actually managed to pull that off with a straight face.

"Wha …?"she choked out. Her eyes bulging, her eyebrows fretting like wings of a butterfly in flight. "Are you serious?" she cried.

"No, just his middle name," I joked, shaking my head no. "I'm teasing you, Clark."

"You're so awful," she balked at me.

I snuggled her closer, pleading for her forgiveness as I whispered, "Do you forgive me for my pitiful attempt at a joke?"

"No, you're an arse!"

"Would you believe that's not the first time I've been called that?" I playfully asked. She gave me the evil eye, and I realized I was in a bit of hot water and needed to get out of the hole I just dug myself. "Ok, so back then I was a complete arse," I confessed. "I really liked the ladies, _but_ I never cheated on any girlfriend I'll have you know, Clark. And I'd like to think I've changed. I know I have. I have different priorities now."

"Like ….?"

"Like I want to have something all my own, build it from the bottom up, like the Castle. And I'd like to get married and be a dad. That's probably what I'd like the most," I revealed, my eyes studying her for a response.

Her eyes grew wide, startled by my admission. " Oooooooooo!" she gasped faintly. "But I'm no tall, leggy blonde!" she pointed out, mocking herself in a self-deprecating way, her lips pursed into a smile, shrugging and staring at her bumble bee slippers as she flexed her feet back and forth.

In a soft voice I leaned in to correct her. "No, Clark, you're not. You're something much better."

I watched Louisa turn a delicate shade of pink, her eyes fluttering, a smile forming on her lips.

"Say you forgive me, Clark," I begged.

"I forgive you," she said in the sweetest whisper.

I leaned in one more time and spoke. "Do you know what I see when I look at you? Potential. Let me take your designs to my friend? Let me do this for you. I want to do this for you. What do you say? Say yes, Clark."

"Ok," Louisa gushed.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." I heard her say breathlessly.


	27. Chapter 27

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN **

I managed to convince Louisa Clark to have dinner with me the next evening in exchange for promising to take extra care driving home safely as I rushed from her house to meet my parents for a late supper at Granta House. "Ok, but I don't feel right about going out in public without breaking up with Pat first," she argued. I made it clear that I would never do anything to put her in an awkward position with Running Man let alone anyone else, that the dinner would not be a first date. Our first date I told her would indeed be something truly special. Pizza at the stables, I suggested? She agreed.

I told Louisa I wanted to show her the additional property I purchased from my parents that would become the renovated annex, my new home. But I had ulterior motives. I wanted her input on what I hoped would be our home together one day. It was imperative that it was to her liking, that it would meet her needs and comfort level, and that she would feel at ease in the annex and think of it as her home as much as it was mine. In my eyes giving up a drawer or sharing a bit of my closet was something you did to accommodate a girlfriend into your daily life. It was hardly a commitment but rather more of a convenience for staying the night. That wasn't what I foresaw for me and Louisa Clark. It was about building a home and starting a new chapter together. That was the whole purpose for the annex, after all it was the pivotal main setting of my prophetic dreams.

On my way out, I thanked Josie Clark for her hospitality and for hosting me unannounced and on short notice and reiterated how superb both her strawberry shortcake and frozen hot chocolate were. Josie kissed my cheek goodbye. "Don't be a stranger, luv," she informed me. "We'll have to have you officially over for a good home cooked meal one evening, and soon," she added. It was obvious that she had informed her husband Bernard, who had finally made his way home after the storm, of my business plans for the Castle and my romantic interest in their daughter, especially from the smirk he exchanged with Louisa, who kept gushing over how I helped her set up an online shop and the logo we decided on. I briefly spoke to Louisa's father, complimenting him on his craftsmanship and indicating my intention to contact him at a later date to discuss commissioning his labor.

And what could I say of little Thomas Clark? He jumped right into his aunt's arms as soon as we appeared in the family's dining room and stayed there nestling for the duration of my visit so that I was unable to hug and kiss Louisa a proper goodnight. Many men may have minded their affections being upstaged by a 5 year old, but I did not. The image of Louisa cuddling her nephew conjured up memories of Charley and Willow, and I daresay I longed to meet them again. It was obvious Louisa and Thomas adored one another and that she was an important presence in his life, especially on nights when Treena was at school. I could and would never interfere in such a relationship and nor did I want to. I was, however, ready, willing and able to share my time with both Louisa and Thomas, with Louisa and any and all members of the Clark family. What little time I spent in their home amongst them, I was envious of their family dynamic – of the warmth, love, support and comradery they felt towards one another. They weren't a family of means or pedigree but they were rich in other ways I couldn't imagine based on my own dysfunctional familial relationships with a cold set of parents with diverging priorities and an entitled, bratty younger sister who hated me for forever overshadowing her. How pathetic that my secretary, her husband and their adult sons were more my family than my own!

I suffered through another awkward and uncomfortable Traynor family dinner with 2 parents who barely spoke to one another and ate only a light salad to be polite after stuffing myself silly at the Clarks. I had previously told my mum and dad of my intentions to return to Stortford when offering to buy the Castle outright, but not of my exact plans. This was the first they were hearing of Stortford Castle and Meeting Hall! My father was apathetic; he was satisfied being free from any business commitments that kept him tied to the village and unable to travel with his mistress. My mum, on the other hand, who always boasted to friends and family of my successful career in London that brought me worldwide notoriety across North America, Europe and Asia and who framed the many magazine and news articles and exposes written about my business and sports exploits, couldn't understand the origins responsible for my making such drastic changes on the heels of breaking up with Alicia and expressed her concerns. "You couldn't wait to leave this sleepy town for the thrill and adventure of the world, and look at what you've achieved!" I thought little of justifying my decisions to my mum, who had become hypercritical of my choices within the past month. If I argued with her, she would surely try to change my mind. "You'll just have to trust I know what's best for me" was the only statement I was willing to make to defend my actions. "Final and last words on the subject," I proclaimed.

Of course, my mum never knew when to stop. She was so insistent I see things her way. "I think you should reconsider the status of your relationship with Alicia!"

"Mum, there _is_ _no_ _relationship_ with Alicia."

"I worry about you, Will."

"Why? What's there to worry about?"

"First you ruined things with that lovely Kat for a playboy lifestyle, then you've made a mess of things with Alicia! And now this business with the Castle!"

"Please stop, mum!"

"I still think Alicia is perfect for you, and according to Mary, she's still willing to take you back!"

I was appalled. "Take _me_ back? I was the one who broke up with her, mother! I have told you repeatedly to stay out of things and not engage those two! Or haven't you been listening?"

"Well, then if not Alicia, let me at least talk to my society friends and make you a suitable match. A daughter, a niece, a granddaughter. There's no harm in meeting some new people, Will. You might just find one you like."

"No."

"The last thing I need is for the village to start comparing you to your father. Like father, like son!"

My father didn't even defend himself. He raised his wine glass to toast my mum's insult and excused himself from the dining room table, leaving me alone with her.

"Why would you think so little of me?" I asked sincerely hurt by her lack of confidence in me.

"Because I've heard the stories from London. Your trysts, your flirtations. But this is where I live, Will. And, I don't need opportunists latching on to you either."

I hadn't known that Will in ages. He was a part of my past, my playboy days behind me. I couldn't help but remember the night of the museum exhibition – so many women giving me the eye, and yet I was turned off by each and every one of them. Instead I sat alone and daydreamed of Clark. I was realistic knowing that I wouldn't be able to keep Louisa Clark a secret from my mum forever, but for now that's how I wanted it. I could only hope that for a woman who claimed to care about my happiness, that one day my mum could put her bias aside and realize just how wonderful Louisa was and how happy she makes me.

"Mother, I neither have any interest in embarrassing you nor of being set up! My life is not a Victorian novel. I don't need to find a woman with a dowry from a family with a reputable name."

"Do you remember my bridge partner, Jane Anderson? She has a daughter named Penelope, and …."

I interrupted my mum before she could say anything more. " No."

"Or Judith Griffith's granddaughter Constance?"

"No."

I gave her a look to stop. "Pushy any?" I jeered.

"I'm just trying to help."

"Well, don't," I snapped.

I knew exactly what would shut my mother up. Just the mere mention of her name would send my mum reeling. Gwendolyn Oates. Camila Traynor hated her with an unspeakable passion. She was jealous of Gwen because I referred to her as my substitute mother in London with whom I had a close relationship, one my mum and I never shared. I changed the subject of suitable matches back to business abruptly.

"Mum, I just wanted to let you know that I'll be using dad's study while he's traveling and the kitchen area as work space until the annex is completed, then I'll move my operations there. John Bates from the New York office is joining my small startup team to assist me in overseeing the construction and with marketing. His daughter and son are both architects in the area, so he's taken his retirement and accepted my offer to join me and work with his kids on the Castle. He's missed them working across the pond all these years."

"That was a lovely gesture, Will!" she smiled approvingly.

"And Gwen and Archie are following me here from London and joining the team." I shot my eyes to my mum, eagerly awaiting the eruption of jealousy.

My mum was fuming. "I cannot believe you invited THAT SECRETARY to move here to work with you again."

"Mother, really?" I snickered. "No one is more organized or competent than Gwen, and if I intend on being successful, I need her with me. There's no one i trust more. Don't you want me to be successful?"

My mum sneered at me, unwilling to answer my question.

"Will, it's late and I'm tired. I'll retire for the evening and see you tomorrow morning for breakfast. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, mother," I chuckled as she left the room in a hurry.


	28. Chapter 28

**CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT**

"Clark, you cannot be serious! I may just have to rethink my attachment to you!" I howled in laughter.

"I am! What? Stop making fun of me!" she pleaded giggling, her face growing redder and redder by the second.

"You cannot seriously tell me Some Kind of Wonderful is really your favorite film of the 1980s!"

"It is!" she exclaimed! I watched as she paused and took a deep breath, then looked at me and giggled more, only to compose herself very quickly and deliver what she called her favorite line from the movie! "ALL I WANT IS ME, MY DRUMS, AND YOU!"

I was beside myself in tears, clutching my side in pain from laughing so hard! How my mum, who was home at the time, didn't call the police citing very loud and rowdy trespassers in the vacant stables attached to Granta House I will never know!

"Whoa! You truly are something else, Clark!" I gasped, trying to catch my breath.

"What? SO CLASSIC! A young Eric Stoltz -Mary Stuart Masterson!" she recalled in glee, her hand across her heart.

"More like Some Kind of Awful!"

"OH MY GOD! STOP!" she cried.

Louisa Clark sat across from me with her knees to the side on a blanket she initially refused to step on because it was cashmere. I told her not to worry, that's what dry cleaning was for and urged her to eat her pizza while still hot. We drank champagne from fluted glasses, and every time bubbles tickled her nose, she became downright giddy. We shared stories from our childhood, she recounting the most delightful and enchanting tale about her most prized possessions – a pair of black and yellow striped tights and glittery wellies she sadly outgrew – revealing the genesis of her obsession with bumble bees.

She looked even more breathtaking than usual this evening in a belted black heart print dress, its pleated full skirt, jewel neck and fitted bodice put her shapely body on full display, darts accentuating her full and rounded breasts. She accessorized it with her own unique flair – a fuchsia pink cardigan and red lips that matched her shiny red shoes. Her hair wavy the way I preferred, cascading over her shoulders with the right side fastened by a black flower. She looked particularly sexy though wearing my black North Face jacket that I draped around her shoulders to keep her warm in the stables. My mind wandered to how she might look wearing nothing but one of my button down shirts with tousled wavy hair.

"Stop staring at me like that," she giggled after taking another sip of champagne.

"Why?" I asked, still mesmerized by the racy image of her naked body wearing my shirt and only my shirt.

Her response was none other than a fit of nervous giggles as she drank more champagne.

I was certainly glad I no longer needed to hide my feelings for Louisa. I dropped my voice and flirtatiously asked, "Where _did_ you get your exotic taste for the 1980s?"

"Josie Clark, of course! It's what I watched growing up!" she answered daringly.

"I gather it would be unwise to mock Josie Clark if I ever wanted to be fed again, huh?"

"It certainly would," she cooed, her eyes falling on the cashmere blanket then back to my eyes.

"But you?" I mused. "It's so much fun to tease you."

"Is it now?" she retorted, her eyes alive and full of excitement. "Well, what about you? Hmmmmmmm?" she teased back, giggling.

"Me? What about me, Clark?" I acted all innocent.

"What was that you were playing in the car, hmmmmm?" Louisa inquired, giggling and sipping her champagne.

"A refill?" I offered.

"Yes!" she cried as I met her flute with the champagne bottle. Her playfulness drove me crazy, stirred both my body and my mind, unleashing quite the imagination, at least on my part. Adding her champagne giddiness to the mix, and I had no idea where our linguistic foreplay might venture.

"Big Man and Jay Z. What about them?" I couldn't wait to hear her response.

"Paralyze our ears, why don't you?" she seductively scolded me.

I spoke in a whispered voice. "Well what's music to you, Clark? Culture Club? Wham? Kajagoogoo? Rick Astley?"

I struck a cord! Rick Astley was it?! Her eyes grew wild, her mouth forming an O, astonished by my insinuation. This should be fun, I thought.

"What's wrong with Rick Astley?"

"Lots! Please don't make me elaborate, Clark!"

Ok! Welllllllllllllllllll … ," she sang out, "I like Duran Duran …. _AND … oh _the soundtrack to Dirty Dancing, _**BUT**_ my favorite song is Never Gonna Let You Go by Sergio Mendes! Ah, my heart! It's such a breathtakingly beautiful song!"

"Oh dear Lord, Clark! That's dreadful! You have no taste!"

"Oh, you mock! Should I sing now?"

I eagerly nodded my head yes.

Louisa repositioned herself carefully. She rose to sit up on her knees, gently placed my jacket on one side of her and her champagne on the other, smoothed out her pleated skirt before casting her eyes upward in an attempt to recall the words to her favorite song. A final giggle escaped her lips before a naughty smile formed on her face as she geared up for a performance of a lifetime. Louisa quickly cued the song on her iPhone, licked her lips and flashed her eyes and brows up at me as the music began. I didn't know what to expect at first, but then found her to be a terrible singer, even if she didn't miss a beat for the first half of the duet. While singing, she intermittently closed and opened her eyes to smile at me and blush. I sat intently with varying degrees of smiles, some with true admiration for her efforts, others of mockery, but most to restrain my laughter.

_I was as wrong as I could be_

_To let you get away from me _

_I'll regret that move for as long as I'm livin'_

_But now that I've come to see the light_

_All I wanna do is make things right_

_So just say the word and tell me that I'm forgiven_

* * *

_You and me, we're gonna be better than we were before_

_Loved you then but now I intend _

_To open up and love you even more_

_This time, you can be sure_

* * *

_I'm never gonna let you go_

_I'm gonna hold you in my arms forever_

_Gonna try and make up for all the times I hurt you so_

_Gonna hold your body close to mine_

_From this day on, we're gonna be together _

_Oh, I swear this time _

_I'm never gonna let you go_

* * *

_Looking' back now, it seems so clear_

_I had it all when you were here_

_Oh, you gave it all_

_And I took it for granted_

* * *

_But if there's some feeling left in you_

_Some flicker of love that still shines through_

_Let's talk it out_

_Let's talk about second chances_

* * *

As the song picked up in speed, her performance took a somewhat interesting and dramatic turn. She began to belt out the lyrics, her whole body affected by the music and its message, swaying her shoulders and arms back and forth in unison with the rhythm, beat and crescendo of voices. She was fascinating to watch. I found myself hysterically laughing at the production before my eyes but more than ever wanting to take her to bed right here right now on the same cashmere blanket she argued about sitting on.

_Wait and see, it's gonna be sweeter than it was before_

_I gave some then but now I intend_

_To dedicate myself to giving more_

_This time you can be sure_

* * *

_I'm never gonna let you go_

_I'm gonna hold you in my arms forever_

_Gonna try and make up for all the times I hurt you so_

_Gonna hold your body close to mine_

_From this day on, we're gonna be together_

_Oh, I swear this time_

_I'm never gonna let you go_

* * *

Louisa sang this part directly to me, leaving her scored on my heart forever.

_Ohhhhhhhh, so if you'll just say _

_You want me too, I'mmmmmmmm_

* * *

_Never gonna let you go_

_I'm gonna hold you in my arms forever_

_Gonna try and make up for all the times I hurt you so_

_Gonna hold your body close to mine_

_From this day on, we're gonna be together_

_Oh, I swear this time_

_I'm never gonna let you go_

* * *

_Never gonna let you go_

_Hold you in my arms forever_

_Gonna try and make up for the times I hurt you so_

_Hold your body close to mine_

_Oh, we're gonna be together_

_Oh, I swear this time_

_I'm never gonna let you go_

* * *

"Well?" she giggled when the song concluded, then sat back on her legs underneath her.

"I'm 'never gonna' forget that," I jested. "You're a God awful singer, Clark!"

She corrected me. "I think you meant to say thank you, Miss Clark, for entertaining m

e!"

"No, I mean you're a terrible singer," I reiterated.

She looked hurt.

I got up and placed my jacket over her shoulders again, and moving her champagne I took a seat next to her. "Don't worry, Clark," I whispered in her ear. "Singing's not the not the only way of entertaining me!"

"OMG! Will Traynor! You're awful!" she cried laughing.

"Awful, Clark? And here I thought you said I was cute!"

"You have your moments, true! Other times you have a filthy mind!"

"A filthy mind would be pairing a black nightie with spaghetti strap ties with a pair of black and yellow striped thigh highs!"

Louisa covered her mouth with her hand as she sat there in shock, her eyes the widest I've seen them yet. "I can't believe you just said that!" she murmured.

"I did!" I boasted proudly. Her face flushed, turning a deep shade of crimson. "Don't be embarassed," I told her, removing her hand away from her mouth. "You would look ravishing in that!" She giggled then bit her lip, too shy to look me in the eye. I swept her hair away from her neck, lowered the collar of my jacket, and began to plant gentle kisses along her neck.

"If I were to find black and yellow striped tights, would you wear them for me?" I suggested.

"No," she cried giggling again.

"Never say never, Clark. Please?" I begged.

"No, and besides they don't make them for grown women!"

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"I am," she gasped as I nibbled on her earlobe. "Would you like me to sing for you again?" she breathlessly offered giggling.

"No," I softly responded between kisses. "I want something to look forward to when I get back."

Her head immediately snapped up, and she turned to look at me perplexed and in a state of confusion and worry. "Wait, where are you going?"

Now I would have to tell her about London.


	29. Chapter 29

**CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE**

"London? But I thought you were staying?" Louisa protested, completely dumbfounded and overwhelmed by emotion.

"I am, Clark. In 5 weeks. Then I'll be home for good."

"5 weeks?" she cried in disbelief!

I knew she would be disappointed, but I never expected her to be this upset. Tears sprang from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks, one after the other. I felt my own heart breaking watching her reaction to my unpleasant news.

"Oh please, Clark. Please don't cry," I begged as I cupped her face in my hands, my thumbs drying her tears.

"How could I be so stupid?" she sobbed.

"You're not stupid, and you know I don't like it when you talk like that about yourself, Louisa. It's all _my _fault, _I_ should have been clearer."

I held her close, her head resting on my shoulder as I stroked her hair in an attempt to both calm and reassure her.

"Do you _really have_ to go back?"

"Unfortunately, I _really do_, Clark. My company wanted me to stay until the end of the year, but I told them that wouldn't do. I didn't want to be away from you for that long. This was … this _is_ the best deal I could negotiate. I would give them 5 weeks to spearhead two major deals and transition my team to their new team leader."

"Can't you come back on weekends?" She sounded hopeful at the thought.

"I can't, Clark," I said apologetically. "When my job entails multimillion, sometimes billion, dollar deals I can work a 70+ hour work week, including weekends. I won't get a chance to come home and visit."

She began to choke up again. "What do they say? Out of sight, out of mind."

"Shhhhhhh. No, Clark, I have no intention of keeping you out of sight, out of mind. None at all."

"I don't want you to go."

"I don't want to go either, but I have to. I have a contractual agreement. Otherwise, I would never leave you. You've got to know that, don't you?"

She shrugged. I felt awful. I broke her heart.

"You can come up to London, you know. I can't promise I'll be able to spend the day with you like I'd like, but at least we can still spend some time together. I can get you a plane or a train ticket. Whatever you prefer. And I'll put you up at any fancy hotel of your choosing or you can come stay with me at my flat. Whatever you want."

She shook her head no.

"No, you don't want to come to London?"

She shook her head no again. "No, I don't travel alone."

So that was out. At least I was trying. I would do anything to see her smile again.

I tried to convince her to look on the positive side. "Five weeks, Clark. It'll go by so quickly. It's not that long a time."

"Not if you're working 70 hours a week, I suppose. But for me, it's long. It's VERY long!"

"All's not lost. There's phone and texting. And, we can Face Time every day. Anything you want."

"You promise?" she asked hesitantly.

"I give you my word, Clark. I promise. AND …."

"And what?"

"That will give you plenty of time to take care of loose ends on your side."

She looked confused. "Loose ends?"

"Breaking up with Running Man," I reminded her.

"Yes," she nodded in agreement. "Patrick. Definitely need to tie up loose ends."

"So I'll tie up my loose ends at Lewins in London, while you're tying up your loose ends here. AND THEN …"

"And then what?"

"AND THEN when I come home, I can take you on a proper first date and finally kiss _my_ girlfriend!"

And those were the magical words that finally brought a smile back to Louisa Clark's face. It was a big, beautiful beaming smile, something I'd come to believe that only I was capable of producing, something I now knew without a doubt I was.

"You know, Clark, I am planning on visiting Kat at her boutique the first free minute I get to take her your designs. So, there's that to look forward too."

Louisa smiled cheerfully, nodding her head in agreement.

"And while I'm gone, you can be building and selling on your Etsy shop, and I expect updates you know."

"Ok," she answered softly, smiling bashfully at the thought of my asking for a status report on her shop's progress.

I rose to my feet and offered Louisa both of my hands lifting her up from the cashmere blanket where she was seated. "Come with me, there's something I want to show you," I said, gesturing my head towards the backside of the structure where the drive was located.

I took Louisa by the hand and led her to the stable window that showed the identical view of the Castle that Dream Will first saw as Charley and Willow snuggled with him in that first dream that ultimately brought me _to_ _this place at this time and to her. _

"What do you think?" I whispered as I cradled her from behind, both my hands securely placed around her tiny waist and gently swaying her.

"It's breathtaking!" she gasped. Her face lit up as she stared awestruck. "I've never seen anything like it."

"It's even magnificent in the daylight, Clark," I added. "What do you think of a bedroom right here, overlooking the Castle, so that it's the last thing you see in the evening and the first thing you see in the morning?"

"I love it!" she gushed.

I found myself overcome with emotion, my eyes misty with tears of joy. I thought I, Will Traynor, climbing the corporate ladder and action man, knew what true happiness was. A Big Life, I had convinced myself. But in reality, I had no idea, and I dared anything could rival the feelings I harbored for Louisa Clark but for perhaps the euphoria and ecstasy I anticipated while making love to her.

"Yeah?" I uttered as I smiled bursting with happiness.

"Yeah!" Louisa cheerfully nodded.

I rubbed her arms hidden beneath my jacket that still hung across her shoulders and kissed her left temple. "Warm enough?"

"I am," she giggled back.

I pivoted our bodies left and talking into her ear, I described the floor plan to her and used my right hand to point out the details.

"Now, imagine, Clark, a large living room right next to the bedroom. You'll still be able to see the Castle from that vantage point. Both rooms enclosed by a wall of French doors that open up to the main room right here. Oh, a laundry room near the rear entrance over there. A kitchen across the back wall with a long island and kitchen stools. A large round table or rectangular one for dining right there, whatever your choice …"

Louisa interrupted. "Whatever _my _choice? What do you mean?" she smirked suspiciously, looking up at me.

"Well, I was hoping, Clark, you might help me design the annex and decorate it, turn it into a real home."

"Really?"

"Yes, really! So, will you help me?"

"If you want me to," she replied smiling.

I returned her smile, inquiring about how she might feel about turning the annex into a real seaside cottage. "I loved your attic so much, I thought I might use white shiplap on all the walls. What do you think?"

"Real shiplap?"

"Yes, Clark. Real shiplap." I laughed. "And you can decide what colors you'd like to accent the annex. Anything you want."

"Really?"

"Really, just like your gray and white curtains."

"No," she smirked. "I think navy. All navy and white with some turquoise sea glass and glass."

"That sounds perfect, Clark. You know I'll need help selecting everything. Furniture, kitchen cabinets, backsplash, countertops, faucets, lighting, bathroom tiles, a shower and bath. EVERYTHING," I emphasized.

"Oh, I've always loved those double bathroom vanities. My aunt had one in Tenby."

"Find one you like, Clark, and we'll get it."

"Really?"

"Yes, and that goes for everything, especially for the kitchen. New plates, glasses, cookware, towels, sheets, a new comforter and blankets. Just tell me what you like, and we'll have everything sent to Granta House until I get back. See, you'll have a lot to do when I'm away. Make a wish list, we'll go shopping online."

"Ok, yeah!" Louisa exclaimed excited by _our _project.

"So I was thinking …."

"Yeah?"

"How do you feel about a fireplace in the living room for a cold winter's evening?"

She giggled.

"I take that as a yes?" I jested.

"Yes," she giggled back.

"And some flat screen TV's. One in the living room, the other in the bedroom so we lounge in bed and watch awful 80s movies."

"Definitely," she sighed.

"But what I was really hoping was that you could help me figure out how wide we should make the bedroom?"

"Why do you need help with that, Will? Hmmmmmmm?" she teased.

"Ah, you know me so well, Clark," I chuckled. "Have you ever heard of a California King bed?"

"Yesssssssss, it's bigger than a standard King I believe!"

"That is correct, Clark. But did you know that a Canadian retailer in Calgary makes beds in 3 sizes larger than the California King?" I waited for her reaction.

"OH MY GOD, WILL!" she gasped. "I know I'm going to regret this, but what would you need with a bed bigger than a California King?"

I cleared my throat then began my descent into madness. "So you see, I have this little fantasy …"

Louisa interrupted me and winced. "Just how much worse is this going to be than the black and yellow stripe thigh highs?"

"Much, much worse," I gloated.

**_Hope everyone is enjoying! Please feel free to post some reviews. Would love to hear some feedback. _**


	30. Chapter 30

**CHAPTER THIRTY**

It was nearly impossible to get close to her to say one more goodbye. I had promised Clark that I would drop by the Hailsbury Market where she and her father were doing business the next morning to see her before embarking on my final 3 hour journey back to London that would mark the beginning of a long 5 week stretch away from her. I wanted to steal her away but for a few private moments, to feel her glossy hair against my face, her soft skin against my lips, her body against mine one last time to get me .. to get us … through an impossible trek of time.

Running Man had hijacked her by the time I had arrived. In fact, his whole squadron of Triathlon Terrors had descended upon the Clark marketplace space. Raucous and ornery, and no doubt combined with the natural oder of sweat from their morning's training, they had deterred a few but luckily not all market goers from their tent. I had seen a few patrons interested in Louisa's handmade Halloween themed bags for trick-or- treaters and pumpkin, bat, and cat baskets for the even younger set pick up to study and admire her handiwork, but then quickly place them back down and steadily move away appalled by the rowdy behavior of the Terrors stretching, pouring refreshments over their heads and using Mr. Clark's exceptional hand-crafted chairs and benches for sale to rest their laurels upon!

I could see Louisa from a distance in distress, urging Running Man to leave, gesturing him to take his team with him. But it was of no use. Mr. Clark had taken over the cause, and while engaged in a much heated conversation in which the younger man who seemed only to ignore his requests, I slipped into the tent and approached Louisa while everyone's attention was otherwise occupied with other things.

Louisa had turned beet red the moment she saw me and gushed without uttering a word. I made sure to stop by her display first before speaking to her.

"Excuse me, miss. Your bags are lovely, and I just happen to coach a girls soccer team and would like to purchase them for my entire team. Do you take custom orders?"

"I'm so sorry," she played along. "But with all the noise, I can't hear you. You'll have to come closer."

"Closer, you say?"

"Yes," she smiled.

I leaned in as close as I could wouldn't the appearance of impropriety and whispered gently in her ear. "Clark, are you impressed I managed to sneak in?"

"I am," she giggled, staring at her sneakers."You know Pat wasn't supposed to be here. He's usually at the Stadium on Saturdays."

Like the first time I laid eyes upon her at the Stadium several weeks ago, she wore black leggings, her 1980s inspired fuchsia and maroon striped leg warmers and gray high-top Converse sneakers. Only this time, she was wearing my black North Face jacket. Her hair was loose and wavy, one side behind her ear, and she looked stunning in the lightest trace of makeup with soft pink lip gloss. No matter the circumstance, she never failed to distract me. My mind wandered off topic. I wondered if her lip gloss was the sticky kind, and I wished we were alone and she were free of Running Man to leave traces of it all over my body.

"Is your lip gloss the sticky kind, Clark?"

" I think so. Why?"

"Just another fantasy," I answered matter of fact.

"Will!"

I shrugged. "I will offer you no defense or justification, Clark, None at all, except to say you drive me wild."

"Stop!" she instructed, giggling. But her giggles told me she quite liked to entertain my fantasies, if only in her head.

"So Running Man didn't even notice you wearing an oversized fleece jacket that smelled like a man's cologne?"

"Apparently not, but I don't care," she boldly stated.

"Are you by any chance naked underneath there, Clark?" I asked suggestively.

"Noooooo!"

"Too bad," I sighed. Another fantasy, I thought!

"Yes, but I did sleep in it last night!"

"Oh, so do you also intend on wearing it in the shower and bath like your bumblebee tights and gorgeous wellies?"

"No, I know better now than when I was little. I wouldn't want to ruin it."

"You know what you look like right now with your hair loose and wavy and wearing my jacket?"

"No, what?" she looked back up at me, biting her lip and blushing.

"Like you just slipped out of my London flat after a night of passion." I teased.

"Oh is that right? Hmmmmmm?" she teased back.

"Yes, you better believe it, Clark!" I was amused at the thought, but Louisa was no one night stand, no part-time lover. She was quite literally the woman of my dreams, and she had to know how serious I was about her. I couldn't imagine leaving and not telling her, even if Patrick were a few yards away. "You know I _am _madly in love with you, Louisa Clark."

Her face glowed, her expressive eyebrows lifted to reveal very loving eyes that stared into mine. " Then stay, Will."

"I wish I could more than anything." I told her. "I miss you already, and I haven't even left Stortford."

"I miss you already too," she responded, holding back tears.

My eyes began to mist up as well. It wasn't easy saying goodbye, because as much as I convinced Louisa that texting and Face Time would suffice for the short term, I was finding it hard to believe that rubbish myself. They were poor substitutes for the real thing.

"Dump the Running Man, please," I reminded her with tears in my eyes as I smiled back at her.

She tried to act as cheerful as she could, given that this was a goodbye for now. "Yes, it's on my list of things to do like furnish your little annex."

I corrected her. "Our little annex, Clark."

"Yes, our little annex," she repeated.

"I _AM_ going to text you those 2 websites I told you about. So be on the lookout."

Surprised Louisa exclaimed, "Oh My God! You're not giving that up?"

"Absolutely not! Why should I? Make sure you have a measuring tape handy when we Face Time at night, ok?"

"You want me to measure oversized beds with you?"

"Yes, Clark, I do!"

"No."

"Yes," I emphasized nodding. I surveyed the tent, particularly to make sure no one, especially Running Man, was watching and kissed Louisa gently on her temple, lingering to feel her silky hair one last time before I stealthily slipped away.


	31. Chapter 31

**CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE**

If anything, I was a man of my word. I told Louisa we would chat every day, and I intended to keep my promise, although my work schedule would complicate things.

I hadn't even been away from her for a full 24 hours yet – it was only 14 hours to be exact – when I began to miss her dearly again for the 4th time alone today. The day had thankfully passed relatively quickly. I had picked Pesto up from Gwen and Archie's and taken him for a walk at a nearby park, eaten a light lunch, and texted Louisa with an agreed upon time to talk. After a much needed 6 hour nap, I was wide awake and brimming with anticipation for our impending chat!

We were scheduled to Face Time in exactly one hour, and the official countdown was on. I sat at my kitchen counter in a pair of pajamas bottoms and t-shirt as I ate takeout from the Italian restaurant around the corner and stared at my iPad, willing the time to go faster and thinking only of her. What I should have been doing was reviewing alternative strategies for my early morning Singapore meeting, but alas I couldn't focus on anything but her. My mind kept returning to last night, how I held her close describing my plans for the renovation of the old stables, how she allowed me to intimately kiss her neck as she gleefully giggled reacting to my touch. How I would do anything to turn back time, return to the evening before, to hold her once more, and especially to taste her skin again. I _hated_ being back in London. Tonight I would be able to look but not touch, and I felt an insatiable ache in my body that I knew would plague me these next 5 weeks and one that was so eerily and remarkably similar to the daily frustrations Dream Will suffered in not being able do the things he wanted to do to her too.

It dawned on me that I hadn't a picture of her to keep and look at during an agonizingly long work day, without being able to break and at the very least talk to her, or during the middle of the night when I couldn't sleep because I missed her so. Google Images of Emilia Clark would no longer suffice as they once did long before we met that fated September day. Clark was a one of a kind, and no one, not even her famous doppelganger, could replace she who was Louisa Clark of Stortford, Mother of No Dragons, Soon-to-be Breaker of Running Man's Heart, A Giddy, Giggling Hot Mess, and Love of My Life!

I soon found myself passing the time by daydreaming of the possibilities of what Louisa might be wearing to bed tonight as we chatted. Was I in for a fuzzy robe? A slinky nightgown with lace cups? A cute little – _very_ _little_ – matching satin camisole set? I wouldn't be opposed to my black fleece North Face jacket paired only with her bumblebee slippers! Best case scenario, I figured! Worst case, the fuzzy robe! I was, however, willing to negotiate a quid pro quo.

I grew steadily impatient with the final few minutes as the countdown drew to a close. In the remaining time I took a good hard look at my flat where I've resided for the past 7 years. A one bedroom luxury apartment in Central London overlooking the River Thames and within walking distance from the financial district where I spent my days in financier banking. High-end living they called it. The ultimate in comfort. My residence tower even possessed its own private gym and provided such services as dry cleaning, grocery shopping, and takeout delivery. The kind of living with its superior urban views of the city of London, a symbol of wealth and status, the pinnacle of measured success. Girlfriends came and went through this very flat, some quicker than the last, but each of them nonetheless attracted to this lifestyle. Looking back, there was nothing original about them. They were all cut from the same mold, even Kat to a certain degree. Like my minimalist apartment with its modern furniture, they were cold, and neither this apartment nor any of the women from my past could generate the genuine warmth Louisa brought with her smile alone. Sadly, Pesto was the closest to any real warmth here in my London flat throughout these years.

Louisa was punctual. I expected no less. She rang me at the exact time agreed upon! 11pm.

"Hi handsome!" she smiled coyly.

"Well, aren't you flirty tonight, Clark!" I sat in amazement of her. Louisa was as cheerful and animated as ever. It warmed my heart to finally see her, and I was in a state of rapture by her presence. I didn't think it possible for her to look more radiant than she already had, especially at this hour of night and without a stitch of makeup.

"I'm wearing your jacket again!"

"I can see that!" I playfully responded. I thought better of starting off our conversation asking what if anything lay beneath it!

"It's warm and comfortable, and the best because it smells _just_ like you!" she cooed happily! " I never want to take it off. I just … I just love it so much! Thank you for giving it to me!"

She hugged her arms, gushing.

"I'm glad you're getting so much use out of it, Clark!" My eyes began to well up, and I was becoming emotional all over again. The third time in 2 days. All I could manage to do was gaze into her eyes with a sad smile. I missed her, and I was homesick for her.

"Stop, before you make me cry!" Louisa demanded as she began to choke up. "I promised myself I wasn't going to cry tonight, annnnnnnndddd it"ll be your fault if I do!"

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to reset my emotions. "Ok, Clark! I'll try not to disappoint you," I said grinning. "Now, how about you tell me how the rest of your market day went? Whatever happened to Running Man? Did your dad get him to leave?"

"Ah, noooooo! My dad even threatened to call security, but Pat's so stubborn. He never does anything until he's absolutely ready to. And, he only does what he wants when he wants. Only sticking to his training schedule did it!"

"And sales, Clark? How did your trick- or- treat bags go over?"

"Welllllll, I sold 10 bags today!" she proudly announced. " Oh, and my dad sold 3 benches!"

"Fantastic, Clark! Well done!" I cheered her on. I was thrilled to see Louisa excited about her sales and thought she deserved only continued encouragement and recognition for a job well done.

"Thank you!" she cried. Her expression changed suddenly. She tilted and jetted her head forward and squinted her eyes to take a closer look at my kitchen counter. "Will, is that pasta? Did you just eat dinner at this time of night?"

"It is, Clark. I have to dressed and at the office by 2am for a conference call with Singapore. They're ahead of us by 7 hours."

"That sounds dreadful, Will! I'm so sorry."

I explained why I couldn't Face Time her at the same time every night. "First, there's the time zone issue. Then there's the actual negotiation phase, which can go on all day, even into the night, and for days and weeks at a time. No one can ever accurately predict just how things will go, especially with offers and counter offers, ironing out minute details. Everything is a wait and see how things go type thing."

"No, I get it," she replied nodding, trying to be understanding. "I'm just happy to get a chance to spend some time with you at all! You'll let me know … about tomorrow?"

Her response was so visceral that I could tell she needed my reassurance to assuage any worries. "I will definitely let you know," I told her.

Louisa seemed relieved. "Ok," she smiled, trusting I would.

I regretted having been talked into ... more like suckered into staying at all, even for the time I negotiated, although that in itself was far better than what management requested of me. If only I had given my 2 weeks notice instead! Sometimes I even wished I hadn't agreed to stay on as a consultant. I often just wanted to be done with Lewins altogether and back home starting to begin what I now considered a big life.

I wanted to keep the conversation from here on upbeat.

"So I told you what I'd be doing tomorrow, what will you be up to?"

She grinned sheepishly, and after clearing her throat she announced, "Working on posting some items to Bee & Honey with Treena, AND hopefully tomorrow will be D- DAY!"

"D-Day for what, Clark?" I asked confused, not knowing what she was referring to.

"D- DAY to break up with Pat, of course!" she exclaimed, her eyes flashed wide and she pursed her lips waiting for my reply.

"Outstanding, Clark! You've really taken charge of that To Do List, haven't you?" I was pleased, very pleased. In fact, this was the best news I could ask for tonight.

"I texted Pat earlier tonight, and told him there was something important I had to discuss with him. So, I'm just waiting for him to text back. Sometimes he ignores my texts while he's out '_training'_, so I'll keep reminding him if I have to!"

FINALLY, I thought! Things were starting to look up!

"Text me, Clark, _anytime_ of the day to let me know you've done it!"

"_Anytime_?" Louisa teased.

"Yes! _ANYTIME_!" I reiterated eagerly. It was something not only I've been wanting but also something I could look forward to in the short term!

"My, someone seems excited!"

"Oh, you have no idea, Clark!"

"Oh, I think I do!" Louisa smirked.

"I'm eager to have you all to myself!"

"You know all good things come to those who wait, hmmmmmmm?" she reminded me with the most sultry of eyes. She proceeded to play with the zipper of my jacket as if to taunt me, slowing moving it up and down just enough that I was mesmerized by her suggestive movements. God, she made me weak in the knees! I sat grinning at the sight of her, oh how I wanted to get creative and frolic with her for hours on end. "What are wearing to bed tonight, Clark?" I whispered seductively.

"Hah! I knew you were going to ask me that! So, I came prepared!" she shouted, completely satisfied with herself followed by an cackling laugh!

"Prepared? Is that right?" Oh, that little temptress! What was she up to? My interest was definitely piqued.

"It is!" she proudly proclaimed! Louisa flirtatiously giggled, giving me the most wanton bedroom eyes I had seen yet in my lifetime. "So, I thought we might play a game?"

"Well, what did you have in mind?" I provocatively responded.

She held up a deck of playing cards and explained that each of us would choose a card, then after shuffling she would lay each card on top of the other until one of our cards turned up. "If my card turns up first, I'll show you what's under my jacket, and if yours turns up you'll have to take your shirt off!"

"Clark, I don't have to lose a game to take my t-shirt off if that's you want."

"Spoil sport!" she scolded me, giggling. "Can't you just play along for the fun of it?"

"I'll play if you want me to," I grinned, surrendering my will to her.

"Ok," she cheerfully smiled. "My card is the Queen of Hearts. Yours?"

"The Ace of Spades!"

Louisa looked like a mad woman shuffling her playing cards. "Here we go!" She read each card aloud before holding them up to show me.

5 of Diamonds

Ace of Clubs

4 of Clubs

Queen of Spades

Jack of Hearts

3 of Diamonds

2 of Hearts

King of Hearts

King of Spades

2 of Spades

Jack of Diamonds

6 of Spades

7 of Hearts

9 of Spades

Ace of Diamonds

8 of Hearts

Ace of Spades

"I win!" she shouted in victory, performing a celebratory dance while seated.

I could hardly contain my laughter at the sight!

"Well, off with your shirt, Traynor!" she boastfully commanded.

I continued laughing as I slowly began to lift up my light blue t-shirt, pausing briefly to remind her that although I was amused by her game there was no need for it. "Louisa, all you had to do was ask in the first place."

She smirked a naughty smile and playfully giggled egging me on. "What are you waiting for?"

I stood up revealing my light blue pinstripe pajamas bottoms and slowly lifted my t-shirt up and over my head.

"Are you happy now?" I grinned.

Poor Louisa! Her giggles had subsided, now replaced by shock and surprise. She gasped, "Jesus, Will!" Her cheeks flushed a bright red and her eyes bulged as she continued to stare, sitting motionless with her hand placed over my mouth that remained agape.

"Louisa, did you never see a man's chest before?" I mocked straight-faced, both my eyebrows fully raised gesturing for her to respond.

She began stammering. ""Yeah, it's just …. "

"Just what, Clark?" I interrupted her. I was having fun playing with her now.

"I mean …."

Louisa Clark utterly speechless!

I began to grin again and offered to cover up. "Do you want me to put my shirt back on?"

"Um ….yeah, I mean no, I … Oh, I don't know what I mean …." She stammered, her voice trembling with nervousness. How her eyebrows could take flight fretting in rapid and continued motion and in opposite directions simultaneously I can't tell you! She was gifted at it!

I broke in laughing. "It's ok, Clark. Just breathe."

She smiled nervously taking one long, deep breath and bite on her bottom lip to hide her embarrassment.

"Now, I'm going to put this back on," I told her. " That's enough excitement for you for one day."

"Yeah, ok," she gulped, biting harder on her lip as she nodded numerous times in agreement.

I knew it wasn't the right time to have a discussion about bed sizes. That I would leave for another late night Face Time session when her mind wasn't so frazzled and she could aptly focus.

I spoke to her sweetly to end our conversation for tonight. "I'm going to say goodnight to you now. Ok? I've gotta get dressed for work."

"Ok," she nodded again still embarassed.

I dropped by voice very low and whispered, "Clark, before I go, can I see what you're wearing."

"No," she spoke up composing herself. "You didn't win."

"On the contrary, Clark! I won in so many other ways!" I snickered gloating.

She started to giggle again, this time shrugging alluding to her own awkwardness. She proposed a quick peek. "One and only one quick peek. Ok?"

"Ok," I willingly agreed.

She pulled the zipper of my jacket down very slowly, holding the two sides together so I couldn't get a look before flashing me a heart-patterned black satin chemise with white lace cups and spaghetti straps.

I closed my eyes to savor the moment that quickly passed, like a camera capturing that very moment in time, her wearing a heart- patterned black satin chemise with her hair straightened and held away from her face by a braided headband. A new memory I could go to. After all, for the next few weeks I would be counting on the places in my memory of her to get me through.

"Are you ok?" Louisa asked.

"I am," I smiled to hide my sadness again. I did that a lot lately. "So, do all your clothes have hearts on them?" I mocked her.

She giggled as she defended her taste. "What? I like hearts. Don't you?"

"Yeah, I do." I sighed gazing into her eyes. A few seconds later I spoke." We have to say goodbye for now, Clark."

Louisa forced a smile and replied goodnight. "And Will?" she added, "Don't .. don't go and fall in love with anyone else, ok?"

She broke my heart yet again. "I'd never dream of it, Clark," I replied.

I don't know what came over me, but I leaned in to my iPad and puckered my lips. "Come closer so I can kiss you," I told her.

"Will Traynor, you look so silly!" she cried giggling.

"Just do it, Clark. Kiss me goodnight."

Louisa brought her iPhone to her lips albeit giggling and met my lips in a single kiss. We lingered for a moment before smiling at one another.

"Not what I was expecting," she breathlessly whispered, teasing me.

"I promise the real thing will be much, much better! Goodnight, Clark."

"Goodnight, Will."


	32. Chapter 32

**CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO**

The Singapore deal was proving to be a unique challenge. Too many difficult personalities with too many personal agendas coming to the table and unable to agree on the details on their end. To make matters worse, Harris Collins, who was my boss and part of senior management as well as Rupert's uncle, had instructed me to start preparing his nephew for a larger role in negotiations and to assess his progress in hopes of him taking over my team, if I deemed him 'ready' that is. What a sticky situation that was, considering my friendship had cooled considerably with him. Although no one except Gwen, senior management and a few members of HR knew about my leaving, members of my team were suspicious more than once in the past week after noticing I was giving Rupert more leadership responsibilities, small as they were. I didn't blame them for thinking him undeserving either, favoring him over them and their far superior work.

For the past year since undergoing my metamorphosis – something Gwen referred to as 'finally growing up' – I had seen Rupert in a new light and had distanced myself from him. My current opinion of him was hardly flattering, and his arrogant, condescending and know-it-all personality only hindered and stalled negotiations. If someone did business with Rupert, 9 out of 10 times they requested to talk to me instead. I was well-liked in my field, trusted by my superiors, and thought of as an honest and fair broker when conducting business. Creative, smart, innovative with excellent people skills. I could achieve the impossible and did, and sometimes it took the most important people skill to accomplish the task at hand – the ability to truly listen and bring together divergent and opposing sides to make a good deal for all involved. Rupert had the pedigree and connections but none of my skillset. I worried about how my team would handle the idea of Rupert's promotion to team leader; nonetheless, no matter their concerns I wasn't about to put off or delay my plans for the Castle and with Clark.

Rupert and I had been best friends since our graduate school days at the London School of Business, where back then Rupert, Kat and I were inseparable. "Work Hard, Play Hard" was the motto we lived by. We did everything together – took the same courses, partied, bar hopped, traveled, and played rough on the surf and slopes that led me to fully embrace extreme sports. We even shared an apartment as well, which had its tumultuous times given my on- again, off-again relationship with Kat. She moved in, she moved out. She moved in, she moved out. But mostly life was fun and games, living the fast life in luxury apartments and vacation spots.

Rupert was my wing man, my best mate. I was the leader of our group. I chose what we did, where we went, and who we welcomed into our tight knit group. I set the rules of the games we played and challenged the others to follow. They even sought my approval for the girls they dated, although never demanded they do so. And, I even kept the boys in check when their playing around or practical jokes went too far and people could get physically or emotionally hurt. Guys like Rupert and Freddy envied and looked up to me. They followed me blindly and idolized me for my whizz kid business achievements, climbing the corporate ladder as quickly as I did, and for the gorgeous women who wanted to be with me, and there was never a shortage of them no matter where I went.

But since Clark, I began to see Rupert differently. I noticed perhaps for the first time how dull and childish he really was and resented him for not thinking for himself, for waiting to be told what to do, for seeking my approval for everything. I bear some responsibility for his behavior I guess. I liked having hanger-ons, being looked up to, idolized, emulated. But now he just grated on my nerves, especially seeing him try to act like me … the old me … and doing a rubbish job of it I might add.

I admit imitation is the best form of flattery, and for too long I enjoyed that. I was flattered all those years of him doing his best impersonation of me. However, it wasn't so flattering anymore. It was downright annoying and pathetic because whereas I came off as charming, intelligent, suave and witty, he came off as a mean- spirited arse and scoundrel.

Rupert was smug and arrogant, not to mention reckless and weak, sometimes consorting with our competition and giving away our plans while being played himself by a beautiful corporate spy dispatched to sabotage Lewins by competitors. He also had no business sense without me guiding his every step and cleaning up his messes. And because of his know-it-all and condescending attitude, Rupert had an uncanny ability to stir the pot, make foes out of friends and incite inter-team fighting. He pissed off clients and potential clients and rendered any sense of cooperativeness utterly impossible to achieve. He was a careless man-child, one I felt the old me was responsible for creating.

After 10 hours, negotiations were at a standstill, stagnated by The Rupert Effect. Each team divided, in-fighting amongst themselves, unable to accomplish anything between teams. There were at least 4 heated exchanges between me and Rupert alone since negotiations began at 2am our time, 9am Singapore time. There was talk on sending me to Singapore later in the week with a few of my team members to fix this if the second round of negotiations failed later that day.

Even though I was inundated with work and trying my best to reign Rupert in, I couldn't help but wonder if Clark was being successful in her own mission. I texted her as early as 9:30am. A one liner was all I could manage during my morning meetings.

ME: Did Running Man respond yet?

LOUISA: No, in church with mum, Thomas and Treena. Will text after. Xxxxx

Louisa updated me about 11am. "Still nothing," she texted. "No answer calling either. Left a voicemail and another text saying I need to talk about something important." She was even so sweet as to ask me how my meetings were going. I texted the word "DISASTROUS" to which she replied with a sad emoji face.

Neither one of us were successful today. About noon, Louisa forwarded me this exchange by text.

Pat, need to talk to you about something important. Sent you 3 texts and left voicemail.

Heavy training schedule today, babe.

It's really important. Can you drop by the house later?

Can't. Personal Trainer appointments to keep.

Tomorrow then?

Taking the boys to spa for a bit of r&r til Wed. Going for wax and electrolysis. Should shave off running time being more aerodynamic. You can tag along if you have $ to pay!

Text me on Wednesday when you're back to meet up.

Don't complain I didn't offer.

Running Man was a real charmer, I thought! Rupert, Alicia, Patrick. They were really something else.

Shortly after I received another text from Louisa and responded on a short break.

LOUISA: Do you think I should have broken up with him by text? I feel like that would have been the cowardly way out. And he may not have taken me seriously anyway & I didn't want to have a fight by text. I'm sorry, I hope I'm not bothering you.

ME: Don't ever think you bother me, Clark! You did fine. There's no right or wrong here. You do what feels most comfortable.

LOUISA : You're not mad?

ME: Whatever for?

LOUISA: For prolonging this until Wednesday.

ME: Don't be silly. I trust you to handle.

LOUISA: OK. Just got Bee & Honey logo. Posted to Etsy shop now. Looks amazing! Going to text it to you now.

ME: It looks fantastic!

LOUISA : I'm going to pay you back.

ME: I know, but I still prefer if you'd accept the logo as a gift.

LOUISA: That wouldn't be right.

ME: Why not? Am I not allowed to buy my girlfriend gifts?

LOUISA: Girlfriend! I like that sound of that! But no, I wouldn't want anyone to accuse me of going out with you for your money.

ME: Oh Clark, I wish you wouldn't think like that!

LOUISA: I know people, Will Traynor, so I insist on re-paying you.

ME: Ok, I've got to go back in.

LOUISA: Are you mad at me?

ME: NO! I'll text you later about Face Time.

LOUISA: K, good luck! Xxxxxxx

The second leg of negotiations proved just as dismal as the first with talks breaking down completely, no thanks in part to Rupert whose slight of mouth culturally insulted the other party. As an experienced world traveler himself , Rupert should have known better, and his action put his recklessness on display. I was in full active damage control mode and needed to speak with Harris about his nephew's behavior and how he was proving to be a detriment to this venture as well as a detriment to the future of the company if promoted to a leadership role. It was a conversation I dreaded but a necessary evil. I also definitely knew I would be traveling to Singapore this week to save the deal and called Harris to request a meeting with him at his London townhouse that very evening to discuss the seriousness of Rupert's egregious mistakes and his future roll at Lewins. It was already 10pm, and I hated letting Louisa down.

ME: Clark, I hate to do this, but I can't Face Time tonight.

LOUISA: I figured as much when I didn't hear from you. Are you stuck at the office?

ME: No, imperative to meet with my boss at his home tonight. I'm on my way over there right now. Took a taxi directly from office. His nephew was supposed to be replacing me but tanked the deal. No way that can happen now. We need to make alternative plans on who to promote. And, it's almost certain I'll have to fly out to Singapore this week.

ME: Clark?

ME: Are you still there?

LOUISA: I'm still here.

ME: I know you're disappointed, and so am I. Please let me make this up to you. What do you say?

ME: Clark?

LOUISA: K

ME: When do you get up in the morning?

LOUISA: 6am

ME: Wake me up then, and we'll chat in bed? Me, you and Pesto?

LOUISA: K

ME: I promise this has nothing to do with you. It's work, and it unfortunately can't wait. Please say something other than ok.

LOUISA: Maybe we should just wait until you get back to Stortford to see how things go, if maybe you feel differently about me?

ME: ABSOLUTELY NOT, CLARK! It's that scoundrel Rupert Collins's fault. He's out of control. Think Running Man on steroids!

LOUISA: Worse than Pat? Not possible!

ME: He culturally insulted the Singapore party. I was doing so much damage control, my head's still spinning. Please don't hold Rupert against me? Let's just proceed as planned. Nothing's perfect, but we'll make do.

LOUISA: Are you sure you don't want to wait? I wouldn't blame you if you did.

ME: NO! I'm 100% committed. And when I come home, things will be completely different. Wake me tomorrow morning?

LOUISA: YES, but do you promise not to wear a shirt?

ME: DONE! I'm here. I gotta go. I love you, Clark!

LOUISA: I love you too, Will Traynor!

Damn that Rupert Collins!


	33. Chapter 33

**CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE**

Harris took the news better than I expected. To his benefit, he listened to me when I advised him not to announce my leaving or Rupert's promotion but rather to allow me to supervise him and give him a trial run with expanded responsibility. Today Rupert failed.

All Harris could say was, "I already heard." Rupert was a disappointment to him. A few years back, he had found himself in a heap of trouble being seduced by a corporate spy that cost the company dearly. Both Harris and I stood by him, smoothing over the rough waters. He was placed of my team for supervision and to keep him on the straight and narrow. Harris had high expectations for his nephew after that scare, and it seemed like under my watchful eye he got "most" of his act together. Harris mistakenly thought he was ready. He apparently was not.

"Will, I know you're staying on in a consulting capacity, but the company will be at a major loss without you. Your experience and expertise are invaluable. Name your price, your title – and its yours!" he offered.

"No, really. It's time for me to move on." I insisted.

"Is there nothing we can offer you to stay on? Nothing at all?"

I smiled in gratitude. "Thank you, Harris. It means a lot to me to hear, but no. I'm happy to stay on in an advisory role only."

I continued to keep Clark and my plans for the Castle under wraps. I know I was being superstitious, but the fewer people who knew the better.

"Fix Singapore, Will!" he instructed me. And I intended to. I intended to fix a lot of things, especially improve communication with Clark, seeing my first day back in London proved a disaster on that front. I was determined to stop her from ever second- guessing my commitment to her or shutting down communication altogether and postponing us being together. Being insecure was never an emotion I wanted to evoke from her again.

I suggested to Harris that my best 2 workers accompany me to Singapore. Felice, also a graduate of the London School of Business, joined my team 2 years ago and proved herself a tremendous asset. She was the natural choice to replace me. She had all the leadership qualities and skills a team leader needed, was talented, and above all was competent. Freddy, always loyal, hard-working and consistent, worked well with Felice and was the obvious choice as her right-hand man. Singapore would give them a chance to demonstrate if they had what it took to get the job done.

My mind was put at ease after Harris went for my idea. I fell fast asleep with Pesto by my side that evening and awoke at 5:30am with a renewed sense of vigor. Clark. She was all I ever thought about. I grabbed my iPhone and arranged for 2 bouquets of flowers to be delivered to the Clark household that morning. The first 2 dozen shocking pink long stem roses that were an identical match to the fuchsia strip in Louisa's cherished legwarmers with a message that read:

You happen to me each and every time I see you.

-Will

The second bouquet was a vibrant mix of 6 multi-colored roses with Peruvian lilies for Josie Clark.

"Just a thank you for hosting me unannounced and for the most delicious food and drink I've ever tasted. Looking forward to having dinner with your family soon.

-Will

I said nothing to Louisa about the scheduled flower deliveries when I called her a few minutes before 6am. I wanted that to be a surprise.

"You're wide awake!" she exclaimed. "I thought I was supposed to call you?"

"Well, I couldn't wait to see you!" I replied, grinning ear to ear. With Rupert a thing of the past and Felice and Freddy now in the forefront, I could focus more on her, and that's exactly what I told her.

"So your favorite breakfast food is French toast with grape jelly, is it?"

"It is, why?" she cooed giggling, wondering what I had in mind. A return to her old self.

"Well, that's exactly what I'll serve you in Wyoming!" I proudly proclaimed.

"Wyoming?" she asked perplexed. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"The Wyoming size bed is my favorite, Clark! 7ft x 7ft. 84 inches x 84 inches. I certainly like the symmetry of it all!"

"Will Traynor!" she cried in shock. "Back to that again, are we?"

"We are! Did you think I would forget?" I asked with a smirk on my face.

"I was hoping. I'm quite happy with my little Queen bed here!"

"You're happy with everything! You know _different_ doesn't have to be bad, Louisa? Different in this case can be quite _titillating_!"

Louisa covered her mouth, her cheeks flushed crimson.

"Stop! You're embarrassing me!"

"Better get used to it, Clark. That's not the only thing I want to do to you!"

"OH MY GOD!" she continued to cry out. Her face was the reddest I've seen yet, and she quickly covered it with her pillow.

"No, no. Don't bury your face in your pillow. Please, Clarke. Don't." I begged.

"No, I'm mortified!" Louisa shouted muffled from behind her pillow.

"Mortified? Why? For the fact I want to lay you in the middle of a luxury size bed so big it looks like it's swallowed us? That I want to prop you up on a sea of fluffy pillows and make love to you with your legs firmly around my waist? While wearing bumblebee striped thigh thighs? Or, your fuchsia and gray striped leg warmers?

"Hey, don't bring my legwarmers into this!" she sternly warned me.

"Why not? They're very alluring!"

"Are not?"

"Are so! Everything about you is alluring, Louisa Clark! You can't win this argument," I told her.

"You're impossible, Will Traynor!" she stammered in a huff, gently lifting the pillow away from her face!.

"Just get used to it then!" I boasted. "So what will it be? California? Wyoming? Alberta? Alaska?"

"Alaska?" she interrupted giggling.

"Yes, Alaska!" I repeated. "The largest of them all! Louisa, did you even bother to look at the websites I texted you?"

"No, I can't bring myself to," she admitted.

"Why not, Clark?"

"Why? Because it's obscene. No one needs a bed any of those sizes except for maybe giant American basketball players!"

"And me!"

"No, you don't!" Louisa balked at me."You may be a tall man, Will Traynor, but you don't have special needs."

"Every man has special needs, Clark!" I argued.

Louisa began to laugh hysterically now. "OH MY GOD! I CANNOT WIN WITH YOU!"

I chimed in reminding her of that. "Now, do you have a measuring tape available?"

"No!" she shook her head rapidly.

"That's ok." I assured her. "I have mine right here!" I lifted the tape measure up to my iPad camera and gently jingled it for effect and to garner another reaction from her!

"Oh my God! I can't believe you're actually going to doing this!" she squawked, laughing and raising her hands to cover her eyes.

Laughing myself now, I stopped and insisted she remove her hands away from her eyes. "You can do it. I know you can," I coaxed her gently.

Using my measuring tape, I repeated the dimension of my King size bed in my London flat. "76 inches x 84 inches. The California King is slightly narrower but longer at 72 inches by 84 inches. You see?" I gestured, showing her.

She bit her lip trying hard not to giggle, but every now and then my favorite sound in the whole world escaped her lips.

"Now the Wyoming, my favorite," I stressed, "measures a full 84x84! What do you think?"

She burst out laughing.

"Go on. Continue to laugh." I mocked her. " So the Alberta is 8ft x8ft, 96 inches x 96 six inches." I held the measuring tape out and looked up for a response.

A even larger laugh bellied from her as she now held her stomach.

"And the largest, the Alaska, at 9ft x 9ft, 108 inches by 108 inches. Otherwise, known as the 'family bed'!" The measuring tape was completely off the screen at this point. I agreed that particular size was somewhat obscene, even for me.

"OH MY GOD, WILL TRAYNOR! YOU'RE CRAZY!"

"Clark, you don't like any of these?" I questioned her.

"No, I wouldn't sleep on any!" she exclaimed between giggles.

"None? Not even the _modest _California King?"

"Well, ok. Maybe that one."

"What about the Wyoming? It's just the California King as an even square! They have them in many luxury hotels all over Europe and in NYC! Or, we can get a customized bed if you want?"

"Customized? I'm afraid to know what that would look like!" Louisa howled.

I googled a few hotels I knew with oversized luxury beds with the Wyoming size and held my iPhone up to my iPad. "See? BIG but not obscene, as you referred to it."

"I see that," she whispered in the most divine seductive voice .

"Well?"

"Ok," she replied in a soft voice.

"Really?" I inquired to make sure.

"Yes, but I want breakfast in bed every day!"

"I can do that, Clark! _Now_ that's a very fetching robe you're wearing!"

"Oh my God! Stop!" she burst out laughing again. "Will Traynor, I have nothing on beneath this! And no, you'll just have to be a very patient man to see more! I have work! Don't you?"

I didn't, not until 10am at least. It was the perfect time to visit Kat's boutique with Louisa's designs, I thought.


	34. Chapter 34

**CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR**

"Those draft cows!" I hissed. "I can't believe they actually recorded me criticizing the boss and played it back for him. So what if I called him stupid? He is. But dammit I knew that coven of witches was scheming behind my back for months trying to get me fired! And now they have! I should have been more careful and wouldn't have made such an amateur mistake and let my guard down. All because I'm off my game since Will broke up with me."

"They're just jealous, Lissa!"

"Jealous or not, I don't have Will and now I've been dismissed from my job!"

"Calm down, Alicia!" I knew Auntie Mary meant well when she tried to console me, but it's easier said than done when you're not the one in crisis.

"No, Godmummy! Everything's worse than imaginable now." I wept as I slammed my hand down on the counter.

"You'll work here now!" Auntie Mary interjected.

My wailing eased momentarily. "I will?"

"Yes, you will! You have such an entrepreneurial spirit that I always thought you were wasting your talent at that department store. They were holding you back."

"You really think so?" I pouted.

"I know so!" Mary assured me. "And let's work on getting you Will back now that you're not distracted by a group of catty women at work!"

I smiled faintly. Mary was always good to me, even if I knew I could be too demanding if only because I knew what I wanted. She understood that about me. I can't recall how many times people have said I reminded them of Mary either. We were so much alike, more alike than my own mother and me. Charming. Classy. Gorgeous. Sexy. Resourceful. There's a lot to be said for a much older woman with the charms and creativity to pull off not just a 4th marriage but one to a much younger man, a financial advisor my age who fancied himself a football star in an amateur league. Auntie Mary was the envy of all her friends, and my role model. I idolized her. Who wouldn't pulling off such an amazing feat like that? And I was more to Mary than her goddaughter. I was like the daughter she never had and even served as her maid of honor at that last wedding. It gave me chills just thinking of her country estate wedding during the early days of my relationship with Will who accompanied me that weekend. I swear when we weren't at the rehearsal dinner or the actual exchanging of vows we were naked having sex – lots of sex – all weekend in our guest room. He was insatiable back then, and he gave me everything I wanted – in and out of bed.

"You still haven't spoken to Will?" she inquired.

"NO! I was hoping to surprise him in bed or in the shower! I tried to let myself into his flat, but that bloody bastard changed the locks, even though he demanded I give him back my key! I have no idea how he knew I made a spare! He _even_ left specific directions not to let anyone inside his apartment who didn't have a key. Auntie Mary, can you imagine? I couldn't _even_ bribe security to let me in! ME! I cant tell how frustrated I am! I've lost my touch! I can't _even_ get a hold of his schedule! Believe me when I tell you I've tried! They're all afraid of that cow of a secretary of his whose got his itinerary locked up, as the Americans say, like Fort Knox! And do you know THAT awful woman plotted against me? Encouraged him to break things off! A secretary! Know thy place!"

"Travesty, darling! Travesty! All bollocks! She'll gets hers!"

"So what am I to do?" I asked, seeking advice, I was open to ideas.

"Leave that to me, darling. Camila is an ally. She wants nothing more than for you and Will to reconcile. She told me as much. I spoke with her just this Sunday afternoon, and I am happy to report she has not given up the good fight. Camila said he's still being stubborn and won't listen to reason, but that's nothing we can't deal with, darling. Supposedly, Will was in Stortford late last week to ink the deal on the Castle and he's renovating the stables into a living space for himself. What do you say we take a few days and visit Camila and Granta House? Maybe you can surprise Will with decorating the annex?"

"Brilliant! I knew I could count on you!" There was no one in the world I could trust as much as I could Mary! I grinned knowing that with Auntie Mary and Camila on my side, I couldn't lose.

"I'm not done yet, Lissa! I have plans for you working with me. Expansion plans. Perhaps into Stortford?"

"Auntie! You are a true genius! What do you have in mind?"

Mary related Will's vast plans for Stortford Castle and the revitalization efforts of the village as detailed by Camila and suggested the two of us look at foreclosed properties to see where we might find an ideal location at the right price to build a spa and boutique, a market as Mary said was needed for such high-end clients Will was seeking to attract. "It could be a successful venture for us! I'd stake my success off of young Will's business sense!"

"I'm in." How could I not be? I would do anything to get Will back, even if I daresay live and work in that sleepy, old village! I would have to begin perfecting my fake smile while referring to Stortford as 'charming' for our visit and for future patrons.

"Listen darling, I didn't want to worry you, but I've seen Will visiting Kat's store twice this week. The last time he was carrying a large box."

"Why the hell was he visiting Kat?

"I don't know. Maybe she and Roger are having marital problems, and she's using Will to comfort herself?" Mary insinuated as a reason. "That's exactly what I would do if that fine piece of arse was available and so was I!"

"No, cant be!" I insisted, reviled by the thought. "Madame O said nothing about that. She told me there's a woman in Stortford he has his eye on instead!" I found myself weeping again.

"No one's a match for my beauty, Lissa! No one. Especially some little village Trollope! I'll call Camila and see if she knows anything , if that eases your mind!"

"It does, Auntie! Thank you." Oh, Auntie Mary was so, so good to be. My tears once again eased by the tenderness of her continued support and tutelage! I still had concerns though. " I'm worried about Kat! You know she and I could never stand one another, and I'll never forgive her for betraying you and opening up a rival boutique just up the street AND _after_ _everything_ _you_ _did_ _for her_! That ingrate! AND, I _certainly_ don't trust her where Will is concerned. I don't know who was worse poisoning him against me – Kat or that evil secretary of his? I just wish I knew what he was doing over there."

"Maybe Camila will know?"

"Maybe. I just need to figure out how to get in the same room as Will."

"Here's an idea. Camila did tell me Will's working up until the last week of October. Maybe she can find out if he's taking any business trips, and you can surprise him abroad, away from all bad influences?"

"You're so devious! And good!"

Not all was lost. God bless Auntie Mary!


	35. Chapter 35

**CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE**

"What could possibly be so important you dragged me away from my publicity tour, Lou?" I snapped angrily outside the café on a chilly fall October morning, while turning my head to smile and thank passersby for their congratulations.

"Fine job, Patrick!"

"Mr. Miller!" I extended my hand giving the older gentlemen a firm handshake.

"Stortford's favorite son!" cried Mrs. Mays as she stopped to give me a congratulatory hug.

"Stortford proud!" one man shouted from across the street.

I was the 2019 winner of the Iron Man Wales in Tenby, hailed as a challenge like no other! A 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, and 26.2 mile run. I had been training so hard for next year's international Nordic Viking Triathlon that I felt I needed to assess my progress to make more informed choices and adjustments to my training and fitness regime. What better way to test my endurance than to compete at a local Triathlon to identify my strengths and weaknesses! And so I entered the Iron Man Wales on the last entry date as soon as my squad and I returned from the spa for some much needed rest and recuperation after a grueling training season this past summer. Even though Lou was nagging me to see her about something or other, she had always been supportive of my dreams in the past and never seemed to mind my commitments to my training, as a competitive triathlon athlete, and my growing business as a personal trainer and life coach, voted now Young Entrepreneur of the Year twice in a row. Our relationship suited me, and I thought it suited her too. We weren't rushing into anything these 7 years together and were comfortable with one another like an old married couple. I suspected that once I achieved my goals and my body could no longer compete professionally that we'd eventually settle down with Lou pushing out a kid or 2 in our late thirties.

I even surprised myself this week, winning First Place at the Iron Man Wales! With my teammates and my mother and sisters cheering me on, I nailed it! I became a wee bit of a celebrity as a result: newspaper articles, TV interviews, and a ceremony at City Hall where our mayor awarded me the prestigious key to the village. Even Main Street was being renamed for me for the duration of the month.

And Lou missed not only the competition and the awards ceremony but also the City Hall event the following week. I was pissed at her lack of support and embarassed when people noticed her absence and questioned me about where the hell she was! Not even a congratulations from my girlfriend but a text still nagging me to talk to her about something. I made sure to tell Lou how incredibly disappointed and angry I was with her for missing out on some incredible moments of my life!

"Well, I'm here. What did you need to see me about? Talk!"

"Pat, I'm sorry. I was busy with my shop and orders for London."

This was the first I was hearing of a shop and orders. I felt lost, like I was running behind the pack. Uninformed and clueless. If my girlfriend of 7 years was keeping this from me, what else wasn't she telling me?

"Your shop? What orders for London?"

"I have an Etsy shop to sell my designs," she informed me unapologetically.

"Since when, Lou?" I was defensive. How could I not be?

"Since a few weeks ago. And besides, I don't need your permission to create and sell!"

Oh really, I thought! Sounds like that sister of hers interfering in my relationship again, always sharing her negative opinions about me to Lou and the rest of her family. It was no secret Katrina Clark was jealous that Lou had a steady boyfriend and that she was a single mother. "I'm never gonna have a Pat" she would always complain.

"Treena put you up to this hair brained scheme?" I questioned her hard.

"No, a friend who also took my designs to a London boutique owner helped me set up the shop."

"A friend? Who the hell do you know in London?" I demanded to know. When she refused to answer and remained tight-lipped, I immediately surmised who the culprit was!

"That bloody bloke with the flowers?" I hissed. My blood rushed to my head, my head began to throb.

I couldn't believe my ears when Lou didn't deny it. "Yes, the guy with the flowers."

I was livid! How could she do this to me?

"What the hell, Lou? Have you been sneaking around with this guy? On your lunchtime, at night for secret rendezvous?"

"No! And we've been very mindful of you."

"Mindful of ME?" I shouted at the ridiculousness of such a statement.

Lou remained calm, trying to explain it to as if any of it mattered. "He's in London right now, and we do speak every day, but _he_ _is_ moving back to Stortford in a few weeks."

Then it all clicked. The card was signed Will, and talk around town was that the illustrious Will Traynor was returning to Stortford to renovate the family's Castle.

"Are you telling me you've been sneaking around behind my back with the Traynors' son?" Her silence told me all I needed to know.

"What the hell does Will BLOODY Traynor want with you?" I scowled at her.

"And that's exactly why I don't want to be with you anymore, Patrick! You insult and belittle me every chance you get."

"How daft are you, Lou? He's only interested in one thing!"

"Will's not like that!" she argued. "He's very sincere and encouraging and supportive and very kind and affectionate."

She was dumber than I thought!

"All men are like that, Lou." I snapped back at her. "They only want a place to put it!"

"Don't be so vulgar, Patrick! I've been trying to break up with you for 2 weeks now. I told you I needed to speak to you about something important. Well, this was it!"

"I was training, Lou! You know how important it is for me to compete and build my brand!" I yelled.

"Of course I do!" she yelled back. "You're obsessed with training! And electrolysis and cleanses, and diets and stopwatches! You were even late for my birthday dinner because of your training!"

"I can't believe you, Lou! You're so selfish!"

"Me?" she cried out in disbelief.

"Yeah! How do you think it makes me feel that I waited patiently for 2 years to touch you, but you just go off with the first bloke who pays you a bit of attention?"

"It's not like that, Pat!" she protested.

"What's it like then? Is it about his money?"

"No!" she exclaimed looking horrified that I would accuse her of being seduced by some rich guy's money.

"You mean he's bought you nothing?" I asked startled, unable to believe otherwise.

"He bought me an Etsy logo package. That's it! It's unlicensed and very inexpensive, and I've already reimbursed him with the money I made from my first few sales and sent him a check in London! And he promised he would cash it!"

Like I believed that! "And what did you give him in return, huh Lou?"

"Nothing! We agreed not to even kiss until I spoke and ended things with you."

And then I noticed it. It was there in front of my eyes the whole time.

"Are you wearing his jacket?" I couldn't believe my eyes or my nose for that matter. A man's scent lingered off the fleece jacket that hung from her shoulders. My nostrils flared taking his scent in, like a predator to a prey. This guy didn't know who he was messing with!

"I am," she coolly and calmly admitted to it.

I ordered her to take it off this second.

"I will not!" she defiantly refused.

I was momentarily in shock, immobilized by her boldness. She was unrecognizable to me. "I can't believe you're doing this to me when I should be on top of the world right now with my star rising!"

"I'm sorry, Pat. I just can't anymore," she replied almost but not quite remorsefully.

Anger erupted from me, and I was determined to have the last word.

"Wait til Traynor finds out he's doomed!" I snarled. "That you don't even know what to do with a man because you certainly didn't know what to do with me but lay there!"

She looked horrified by my remark and on the verge of tears! Good! I hope that gutted her heart like she gutted mine! I'll never forgive you for this, Lou! Never!

Then I stormed off up the street seeing only red!


	36. Chapter 36

**CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX**

It wasn't the type of artwork you could just glance at. It captivated me, entrapping me within the intimate scene. Sensual, dramatic, passionate – alive with movement and raw emotion. Clearly a departure from his other works on anxiety, loneliness and death that I had seen in museums in London, Norway, and the Louvre.

**The Kiss **(1895), an etching by expressionist painter Edvard Munch best known for **The** **Scream **(1893), spoke to me so personally, and of all days today.

Two lovers – a man and a woman – stand naked before a window in a long passionate kiss. The woman her neck arched upwards to meet her lover's lips, her hands gripping his shoulders tight. The man leaning forward, his legs slightly bent and drawn in such a way as to accentuate his musculature and to illustrate the strength required to firmly and passionately hold her in his arms, his hands clutching her back pressing her body against his. Their faces indistinguishable, virtually impossible to separate as they meet and become one.

Such a private moment. A moment I longed for between me and Louisa. I imagined the two of us as the figures in the sketch, my arms holding her in a tight embrace as we passionately kiss, her hands clutching my skin, her breasts pressing against me – the union of 2 individuals madly in love, absorbed and lost in one another, isolated from the world in our little annex with the Castle as a backdrop and the moonlight flooding the interior and illuminating our naked bodies. A precursor of more to come. The state of being in love and the anticipated act of making love, I thought. Oh, how **The Kiss **spoke to me!

With Clark now unattached, it served as a reminder of how I could freely act on the unbridled passion burning inside me.

It was only this morning that I awoke in a midtown New York City hotel on yet another business trip to a long- awaited text message –nearly 2 weeks overdue – sent from London as I slept. Louisa wrote: "Cross off Breakup with Pat from my To-Do List!"

I immediately responded.

ME: Fantastic news, Clark! Want to go steady with me?:-)

LOUISA: Do people still do that?

ME: Well, no. But say yes anyway, Clark!

LOUISA: You're such a geek, Will Traynor! YES! Happy?

ME: GOD YES!

LOUISA: BTW are you really in NYC?

ME: Yes, why?

LOUISA: Sure you're not say in HOUSTON, Texas?

ME: What would I be doing in Houston?

LOUISA: COMIC COM! E.C. ;-)

ME: NO! Only liked E.C. as substitute for you!

LOUISA: That makes no sense! Explain.

ME: You're my dream girl!

LOUISA: Yeah, right! Not going to answer, are we?

ME: I already did! You just don't believe me! You know I did see the Mother of Dragon character in Times Square this morning. I told her my girlfriend looks like her. Called me a pervert!

LOUISA: LOL! I suspect she didn't fancy you? ;-)

ME: No, not at all. Must be losing my mojo!

LOUISA: The English accent didn't attract?

ME: Sadly, no. Just said it made me sound more like a creep! ;-)

LOUISA: I wish I could have seen that!

ME: In all seriousness, everything go ok with Patrick?

LOUISA: Not really! He was angry and said a lot of cruel things.

ME: To be expected, unfortunately. Are you ok?

LOUISA: I am. I'm just glad it's over!

And so was I! I was, in one word, ecstatic! Everything was falling into place as expected.

After morning meetings broke on the Upper East Side, Felice, Freddy and I headed to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to roam the galleries before having lunch. I excused myself from my colleagues promising to catch up with them and made my way to the MET gift shop. I was in such a good mood that I purchased 3 large bags of items. There were several costume books as well as a 1920s Art Deco inspired marcasite hair comb with a ruby red stone for Louisa and a few art and model kits, a junior astronaut helmet that made real NASA flight sounds and announcements, and a new LEGO set for Thomas. The latter included a construction book and over 30 pieces of specialized LEGOS to create machines that could swing, pivot, lift and roll. I thought that on the evenings Louisa watched Thomas the three of us could play with the items together.

As I strolled the halls to rejoin my co-workers **The** **Kiss** caught my attention, and I backtracked and slipped into the Drawings and Prints Wing to get a closer look. That's where Felice found me.

"I should have known I'd find you looking at something like that!" Her voice roused me from my euphoric state. And oh what a euphoric state it was!

"Excuse me?"

"Well, Will Traynor, your reputation proceeds you," she said gesturing to **The** **Kiss**.

"Ah, yes – that. I suppose I'll never live down my reputation," I politely responded. Another reference to my old playboy days.

Felice began to stare at the sketch herself now. "I can see why you're so taken with it! It's very erotic!"

Surprised, I asked her, "You find it erotic?"

Tilting her head, she looked at me puzzled. "Of course, you don't?"

"I don't."

She was mildly amused by our difference of opinion. She crossed her arms and issued me a dare, her body language eagerly awaiting me to make my case. "Ok, if it's not about hot sex, then what is it about?"

"Being in love," I answered.

"Being in love?" she reiterated laughing.

"Why is that so hard to believe?"

She laughed, mocking me. "I've heard the stories of Parisian balconies and cold tiled bathroom floors but never took you for an incurable romantic, Will!"

Never before was I so embarassed and ashamed of my past! I instantly felt my face flush, and I cared not to remember old flames or relive past deeds.

I took a moment to gather my thoughts and composed myself.

"See their faces?" I pointed out. "Notice how they're featureless? Blank? How they blend or melt together into one as they kiss?"

"Who cares about their faces? she replied indifferently. "Check out the positioning of the bodies! Smoldering hot!"

"Well, the whole meaning of the artwork is tied up in their faces. That's why it's about being in love and not sex. It symbolizes the union of the lovers as one, how those who fall in love lose themselves in the other. Reminds me of what Plato says about soulmates, 2 halves in search of one another that when found come back together and blend as one." I smiled thinking only of Louisa.

"Plato, huh?" she mused, half mocking me, half entertained by my assessment.

"Yes, Plato. In The Symposium, Aristophanes tells the story of soulmates where he argued that all humans were originally created with 4 arms, 4 legs and a head with 2 faces. However, the gods felt their existence was threatened by such strength, so Zeus split them into 2, condemning them to a life in search of their other half. Thus, the idea of the soulmate, one person completing the other."

"Well! Well! Will Traynor! You're full of surprises! Sexy and intelligent! What do you say we ditch Freddy this afternoon and head back to my hotel room? I have a rain shower in my bathroom."

Felice began to straighten my tie and smooth both my dress shirt and suit jacket. My eyes shot open wide immediately, and I quickly took a step back away out of her grasp. I needed to set her straight and fast.

"I think you have the wrong idea. I have a girlfriend!"

"I thought you broke up with Alicia. Are you back together?"

"I am not."

"Then what's the problem?" she argued.

"I have a girlfriend!"

"So? No one needs to know."

"I'll know." I argued back. "And that's enough for me."

"Well, how serious could it possibly be?"

"Quite serious, considering I have an appointment with a diamond jeweler this afternoon."

She looked confused . "Then why bloody hell have you been giving me more responsibility and taking me on business trips with you if you didn't want anything to happen?"

"Would you believe because you're competent, have a good work ethic and are quite capable of leading the team?" I blurted. What was the difference? I had 3 weeks left and soon everyone would know. "Next week management will be announcing my departure from the company and your and Freddy's promotions. It's been in the works, and you've both proven yourselves up for the challenge! That is the reason and the only reason you have been accompanying me on trips and tasked with a greater role in company deals."

Felice was shocked. "I'm getting a promotion?"

"Yes. Earned the honest way," I added.

"Are you sure you don't want to have sex? The offer's still there. If you're leaving you might as well take me up …"

"Quite positive, thank you." I interrupted her quickly, informing her that the subject was closed for discussion from here on in and suggesting that we should find Freddy and let him know about his promotion as well.


	37. Chapter 37

**CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN **

"_I'm never gonna let you go_

_I'm gonna hold you in my arms forever_

_Gonna try and make up for all the times I hurt you so_

_Gonna hold your body close to mine_

_From this day on, we're gonna be together _

_Oh, I swear this time _

_I'm never gonna let you go"_

"Would you stop singing that bloody song already? I know you're in love! The neighbors know you're in love! The world knows your in love!" Treena shouted breathlessly, taking another sip of her champagne as the two of us sat on my bed in the attic waiting for our nails to dry.

In addition to texting Will this morning, I had also texted Treena to tell her that I had broken up with Pat. Treena suggested we celebrate by taking a drive to Ulta for beauty supplies after work and by stopping for champagne before returning home. Tonight would be a Girls Night! Manicures and pedicures with champagne after Thomas's bedtime!

"I'm sorry," I giggled. "I'm happy!"

"And drunk!" she added.

"Well, so are you!" I stammered back, giggling again. "You know Will's champagne didn't taste horrible like this!"

"I'm sure his was the good expensive stuff! Drinking on a budget –you and me, sister dear!"

"BUT … BUT, we bought the good nail polish!" I announced with a wide tooth smile nodding my head in the affirmative and admiring our new Deborah Lippmann nail polishes.

"Exactly!"

"You know, Treen, I … I sang _all_ of "Never Gonna Let You Go" for Will!" I confessed in a fit of giggles.

"And he still wants to go out with you after hearing that awful singing voice of yours? There has to be something wrong with him! Mark my words!"

"Go on, mock! But when he came to say goodbye at the market, Will told me he was madly in love with me!" I began to hiccup the moment the words left my lips. "Oh, must be the cheap champagne!"

"And I know how you feel! You hardly ever remove that stupid fleece jacket of his!"

"I know, I'm miserable without him!"

My sister began to smirk and tease me. "Which only begs me to ask – when _are_ you going to wash that thing? You sleep in it every night, and it has drool all over it!"

"Oh my God! STOP!" I cried as I examined the jacket for myself. "Is it that bad?"

"Worse," she grimaced.

I argued that if I washed it, it would lose Will's scent.

"Think, you daft girl! Does it really smell like Will Traynor anymore or does it smell like something else now?"

I hated when she was right.

"I can smell it from here! Put that bloody thing in the hamper!"

I walked across my room to the hamper and reluctantly let Will's jacket slide from my arms carefully as not to touch my wet nails.

"There. Happy?" I moaned.

"Fresher air! YES!"

Treena tapped my bed, gesturing me to return. I sat back down next to her and gently rested my head against hers.

I couldn't help but giggle as I told her, "He wants to make me breakfast in Wyoming!"

"He what?" she cried!

"He wants to make me breakfast in Wyoming?

"What the hell bloody hell are you talking about?

"Wyoming is the name of a luxury _oversized_ bed!"

"Kinky!"

"You have no idea! There's one even bigger called the Alaska bed! Our whole family including Granddad could fit!"

"Sexy! Not Granddad, God Bless, but the bed of course! I can think of a few things I'd like to do in an oversized bed!"

"Katrina Clark!"

"Well, if you're not up to it, I'd happily stand in for you! That Will Traynor is sexy if nothing else!"

"Treen! That's my boyfriend you're talking about!"

"Well, that man can make me breakfast in Alaska if he'd like!"

"You're terrible!"

"No, terrible is not taking him up on his offer!"

My sister held her champagne flute up to make a toast. "To the end of the Prissy Pat Era! HELLO, WILL TRAYNOR!"

Almost on cue, Will Face Timed me.

I glanced at Treena in a panic. "What do I do?"

"Answer it, you daft girl!" she exclaimed.

"Hi Will!" I giggled, singing out the words.

"Hi yourself! Clark, are you drinking?" Will asked amused.

"I am!" I answered in a nervous giggle.

"Hello Romeo!" Katrina cried in the background.

"Shhhhhhh," I turned around to hush her.

Will began to laugh and graciously acknowledged Treena. "Hello, Katrina Clark! We finally meet!"

"Welcome to our Bon Voyage Pat Party!" she hollered.

Will grinned from ear to ear at the sound of that! "Ah, so that's what's going on?"

"Yes!" I giggled! "Treena ….. Treena and I are celebrating with champagne and a mani and pedi!" I held my nails up to the phone. "It's called Venus in Furs! Do you like?"

"Fetching, Clark! I'm impressed you ladies did such a good job seeing how pissed the two of you are!"

"Really? You think we did a good job?" I mused.

"I do, Clark!" he gently replied back. "Excellent job!"

My hiccups began again as did Will's laughter.

"Are you laughing at me, Will?" I asked horrified with embarrassment.

"I am … but only because you're so adorable!"

"So are you!" I replied as I dreamily stared at him on my phone.

"You two are disgustingly adorable!" A voice rang out in the background.

"Shut up!" I shot back at Treena, gritting my teeth.

"Say, Will? Do you have a sexy mate you can hook me up with?

"Sexy, yes! Honorable, no!"

"I'll take him!" she shouted, only Will pursed his lips and shook his head no.

"Clark," he chuckled. "I'm going to let you two ladies get back to your celebration now, ok?"

"Ok!" I whispered blushing.

Oh, how I loved that man! And I had no idea how I was going to sleep tonight without his jacket.


	38. Chapter 38

**CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT**

It was almost midnight in Stortford when I Face Timed Louisa. I had requested that she stay up late to chat to which she eagerly complied, informing her that I would be _en_ _route_ from New York back to London all day.

"Hi!" she exclaimed in her usual flirty voice, looking and acting more like herself tonight unlike last when she and her sister were celebrating the end to her and Running Man's 7 year relationship.

"Over your hangover, Clark?" I asked smirking, remembering how cute she was drunk and dreamily staring at me.

She seemed shockingly embarassed for someone I recalled was quite tipsy in my old stables not too long ago serenading me with a ghastly 1980s love song. Louisa cringed before answering. "Yes, almost as good as new."

"Yeah?" I asked sweetly.

"Yeah," she responded in a soft tone. That dreamy look from the previous evening returned, only sober and now aware of the magnetism of that stare she quickly diverted her eyes away from mine.

"Good!" I told her, my eyes remaining fixed on her. "Then get a move on it and let me in. Or, are you going to make me stand outside your front door all night? It's cold out here!"

Her face lit up, her eyes widened with surprise as they shot back at me. "You're where?"

I couldn't help but grin.

"Outside your front door, Clark! Come see for yourself."

The last thing I saw was a huge smile flash across Louisa's face before she dropped her phone and ran off. From the outside I could hear the echo of footsteps bolting down the stairwell as she shrieked, "Mum, Will's back! He's back!" The clamoring sound of jangling keys alerted me to how furiously she worked to unlock the door and how excited I was myself to see her now that she just on the other side.

Once opened, Louisa wasted no time. There was no hesitation, no awkwardness, no stalling. She leapt onto me, wrapping her legs around my waist as she embraced me tightly. Cradling the back of my head with both her hands, she nestled her face against my neck and very gently took a deep breath inhaling my cologne with a satisfying sigh. "Bottle didn't do it for you this time, huh?" I teased as I balanced her on my hips. "How could it?" she breathlessly whispered into my ear, nestling even deeper. With the side of my face I brushed aside the unzipped fleece jacket I gave her to wear revealing a gray lace camisole underneath and tenderly placed a sensual kiss across a thin spaghetti strap that lay on her bare shoulder. An electric current pulsated throughout my body as she made a low groan. "Will, we shouldn't," she softly moaned. "My mum's … my mum's in the kitchen!"

I stopped instantly, and after a brief pause she clutched me once last time before lifting her head to meet me face to face.

"I'm sorry, Clark. I got carried away with you … with you on top of me like that."

"No, it's my fault, Will. I shouldn't have jumped …"

"Shhhhhhhh ….," I interrupted. "First, you should always greet me like that."

"Really?" she smiled biting her lip.

"Yes, it's a wonderful feeling! And second, I knew we weren't alone down here with the lights being on and you addressing your mum. So you see, it's entirely _my_ fault. I will do better."

For a brief moment she looked pensive.

"Why the look of disappointment, huh?"

"Mmmmmmm .. so no more of that?" she frowned, gesturing to her shoulder.

"No more of that for _now_." I stressed before dropping my voice low. "Why? Did you like that?"

"Yeah," she shyly nodded.

"Ok, so maybe if we're alone …."

"Lou, luv," Josie shouted from the dining room area. "Are you going to invite that boy in or not?"

"Yes, mum!" Louisa shouted back as she blushed. "Will's coming in now!"

Louisa and I smiled at each other as I gingerly placed her back on her feet.

"I can't believe you're actually here," she gushed as she hugged me tightly. I wrapped my arms around her and resting my head against hers I found myself getting emotional. This was exactly where I belonged. In _her_ arms.

"I couldn't stand another day away from you, Clark!" Now that was an oversimplification. If only she knew the real reason _why_ I had come to her. I had _fled_ New York seeking shelter, only her shelter and only her comfort, only her solace and only her body, her heart, her soul.

"I took an earlier flight – 6am to be exact- from JKF to Heathrow, stopped home to shower and drove all night to get to you."

"Just like the Cyndi Lauper song!" she cried.

"Well not exactly! I didn't creep into your room because that would be _creepy_, yes? I jested.

"Definitely," she giggled.

"But I wouldn't mind driving all night 'to wake you from your sleep to make love to you'."

"Will!"

"I really missed that giggle!" I told her as she hung on me giggling and laughing.

"Come inside," she smoldered, giving me the eye as I grinned back at her.

"Ok. After you, Clark."

I gathered the 4 large shopping bags to my left and followed Louisa into the main hallway where we met Josie Clark wearing a long terry cloth blue bathrobe on her way to bed. She greeted me with a kiss to the cheek as Louisa stood smiling to my side.

"Good to see you, Will! And thanks for bringing a smile back to my daughter's face!"

I couldn't help but blush and glanced over at Louisa to find that she too was blushing. The pair of us!

Josie motioned curiously to the bags. "What's all this?"

"Gifts from New York."

It was first time Louisa noticed them herself, and her eyes grew wide with excitement. "For me?"

"Mostly, yes!" I laughed. "There's also a bag for Thomas. Things I found at the Metropolitan Museum of Art Gift Shop I thought he might like."

Josie was touched by my gesture. "That was very kind of you! Wasn't it, Lou?"

"Very," she answered turning a deeper shade of red.

"Well then," Josie smirked as she darted her eyes back and forth from me to Louisa. "I'll let you two kids spend some time alone. Remember to lock up again, Lou!"

"I will, Mum. Goodnight!"

"Goodnight, Josie!" I chimed in.

Louisa waited for the sound of her mum's bedroom door to open and close before a naughty grin enveloped on her face and she quickly ushered me into the living room where I took a seat next to her on the couch.

"What are you up to, Clark? You look like a mad woman!"

I watched her closely in awe of her every movement. Biting her lip, she made her move. A soft ascent on top of me in colorful heart balloon printed black pajama bottoms, her face giddy with delight as she straddled me. She was exactly what I needed after the past 24 hours.

I gazed into her wild eyes and slipped my fleece jacket off her shoulders letting it fall from her arms and petite frame.

"Hi," I said in amazement of her.

"Hi," she breathlessly whispered in return.

"What's this, Clark?" I teased as I aptly released her 2 side buns so that her hair was now loose and free to run my hands through.

"Business," she cooed.

"Oh business! I see."

"Yes," she giggled as she wrapped both her arms around my neck. "I have business to attend to! First things first. You've been away for too long, and I am a free woman now if you haven't heard."

"I have heard, but how do you expect to open your gifts like this?" I jested.

"You _are_ my gift Will Traynor!" she said staring deeply into my eyes as she cupped the back of my neck. Louisa shifted slightly propping herself up in a more dominant position, and leaning herself into me our lips lingered close without touching. We breathed one another in before she drew my lips into a long and winding passionate kiss that sent my hands caressing her back, clutching her to me as we kissed deeper and deeper until our lips finally parted minutes later.

Breathing heavily, I looked longingly at her. "Clark, are you something of a dream or a miracle? I'm not quite sure."

"You're something between a dream and a miracle to me, Will!"*

I began to kiss her neck, making my way back to the straps of her camisole as I had promised I would, and gently grabbed one between my teeth and slid it from her shoulder.

"I know we're not alone, Clark," I whispered in her ear, "but I can be very quiet and very gentle. No one would know."

"Will, no! Not with my mum and dad upstairs!" she giggled shocked at the thought.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive! I would be mortified if anyone walked in!"

"Please," I begged. "New York was _traumatic_."

"Traumatic?" she laughed. "I didn't know a business trip could be traumatic!"

"You have no idea!" I sarcastically quipped. And she didn't have any idea , but I also wasn't willing to upset her by telling her about Felice's continued overt sexual advances and her unwillingness to understand the word no as well as Alicia suspiciously turning up in New York, accessing my hotel room and joining me uninvited as I showered late last evening. I not only had to fight my way out of the shower but also my hotel room when Alicia refused to leave. I quickly dressed and made my way out of the hotel, only for her to follow me street side where an ugly scene ensued with the both of us shouting – she pleading for another chance, me telling her no in no uncertain terms. She even pushed me a few times in anger. In my attempt to flee, I hailed a taxi pulling in across the street and just as I was about to step off the curb, the most eerie feeling fell over me, and I stopped in my tracks. That's when a motorbike raced down the block out of nowhere and whizzed past me at easily over 80 miles an hour. I didn't have to think about what would have happened if I had taken that one fateful step. I already knew. I looked at Alicia who showed no concern for my safety and stood pouting and calmly informed her that if she followed me back upstairs, I'd call security. I returned to my room, collected my bags and immediately headed for the airport to take an early flight home.

"Yes. Very traumatic, Clark," I spoke quietly, remembering the events that did and thankfully did not happen last night.

"Will, are you ok?"

"I am now here with you."

"Are you sure?" she inquired a second time.

"I am. And tomorrow, I'll tell you what we will do. We'll spend the whole Sunday in Tenby."

"Tenby? But it's October!"

"So what?"

"Ok," she giggled at the bizarre idea to spend an autumn day at the seaside.

"AND when we get back, we'll head over to the annex to check out the progress, and you'll finally open your gifts. How does that sound?"

"Can we drink champagne again? The good stuff?"

"Anything you want, Clark."

"Ok," she gushed.

I pulled her closer and softly kissed her.

"Will?" Louisa asked as she stroked my hair and lovingly stared into my eyes. "Don't go back to Granta House tonight. Stay … stay and fall asleep with me here?"

How could I refuse? There was nothing I wouldn't do for her.

*A quote from Elizabeth Barrett Browning


	39. Chapter 39

**CHAPTER THIRTY – NINE**

She looked frightened, absolutely petrified. "You want me to what?"

"Might be fun, Clark!" I said, trying to reason with her to ease her fears.

"Uh-uh!" she kept repeating, shaking her head furiously.

"Why not?"

"I've never surfed in my life! That's why not!"

"It's a good start to broadening your horizons, don't you think?" I jested.

"Uh-uh!"

"I'll rent you a wet suit, and we'll go out for 20 minutes – half an hour tops?" I pleaded.

"Uh- uh! I told you I didn't want to."

"I'm an excellent swimmer and an excellent surfer! Please."

"No."

Taking her hand in mine I held it up to my heart and made her a solemn promise. "I won't let anything happen to you. I'll hold you tight and won't let go, and if you're still not comfortable we'll come right back in."

It took over half an hour to convince her to come join me in the ocean at North Beach in her favorite seaside town of Tenby but almost twice as long to convince her to get out of the water once she was in! "Just one more wave, please?" "That wasn't a good one! Next wave will be the last, I promise!" "Do we really have to get out?" "Just five more minutes?" I caved every time.

We spent most of the morning sitting together on my surfboard checking out the oncoming waves. I positioned us both in the middle of my board to distribute our weight evenly and firmly placed my hands around her waist. "The trick to not falling off," I told her, "is to keep your legs moving!" I made sure she got into the habit of slowly kicking her legs back and forth or in small circular motions to imitate the movement of the water. As the waves formed, I read each to her and predicted their behavior, explaining how powerful waves break very quickly with a lot of power and would be too dangerous for a newcomer like herself. Those we hopped or avoided whenever we could. We rode only the small and gentle ones but took more exhilarating rides back to the shore riding the rushing whitewater of collapsing waves.

It was something to see –her metamorphous from trepidation to delight. And it was something to experience myself as her teacher and guide, sharing not just something I loved to do with her but also sharing in her first time experiencing it for herself. At first she would panic and brace down hard closing her eyes tight. "Oh my God! Oh, my God! Here's another!" she would shriek. But after a while she began to squeal! "Oh look! I think this one is going to collapse! YES! WHITEWATER!" After the initial fear subsided, she giggled endlessly.

I finally talked her into returning to the shore once and for all for some lunch and to get warm. "Your lips are blue, Clark. Don't you think it's about time we get out?" I gently asked kissing her lips as I leaned in from the side still firmly holding her against my chest. "I guess," she sighed reluctantly, her diaphragm sinking in disappointment. "We'll come back and do this again some time soon, ok?"

It was too cold for her to remain in her pink bikini after removing her wetsuit. It was a lovely shade of pink, the color of watermelon, its straps tied behind her neck. She redressed in a pair of black capris banded joggers and a gray sweatshirt that hung off one shoulder and bore her emblem front and center – a glittery pink heart. I admired her as she ate her lunch. How sexy she looked with her hair drying wavy and wind-whipped on the beach! But I was more mesmerized by how her pink bikini ties peeked through her flowing hair and dangled down her back. A constant temptation, I thought.

I laughed as she ravenously finished off her sandwich within minutes. "So you were hungry after all?" I teased.

"I was!" she admitted giggling.

I couldn't take my eyes off of her. She looked gorgeous in this light, her hair glistening in the sun, streaks of natural Auburn highlights shimmered framing her face. I sat closer and stroked her bottom lip with my thumb to remove trace crumbs left behind by her sandwich. She giggled, casting her eyes down on the blanket we sat on.

"My favorite sound!"

"What? My laugh?" she exclaimed incredulously.

"Your giggles."

She looked at me like I was crazy.

"Don't look at me like that, Clark! In fact, you haven't heard the craziest part yet."

"Crazier than Wyoming or Alaska? I think not!" she playfully scoffed, not taking my admission seriously.

Should I tell her I found her in a dream? Would she even believe? Even Gwen thought I was crazy. Could I even prove fate had led me to her? Would she be flattered or creeped out by the notion I fell in love with her long before I had even physically laid eyes on her, that I had searched all over the world for her, and when I found her I gave up a thriving career and on impulse bought a decaying Castle and renovated the old stables on my family's property to create a big, bold life with her?

I wasn't ready to confess yet. Perhaps I would never be ready. I didn't know one way or another. The decision was for another day, another time. Today was about enjoying ourselves.

"Did you have fun out there today?" I smirked, recalling memories of earlier today. Our first day out as a real couple! A year ago I wouldn't have believed I would be with her, holding her close and cradling her in the surf as we rode the whitewater together.

"That was incredible! Why didn't you tell me?" she cried with big beautiful eyes filled with the morning's excitement.

I gently lifted her chin, and staring into her eyes planted a series of passionate kisses on her lips – one by one – before whispering in her ear. "Some people cannot be told, Clark!"

Louisa quickly found a way back to my lips as she ran her hands through my hair. I returned each and every kiss with the same ferocity. My lips made their way down to her exposed shoulder where I gently blew on her skin and sensually kissed her, one after the other after the other.

She gasped then giggled in response. "Will? Will? People are staring?"

"What, these surfers?" I laughed, stopping only momentarily. "Trust me, Clark, these blokes are happy for me!"

"You're awful!"

"So you keep telling me!"

Louisa suddenly sat up straighter, her mouth agape in shock. "Will Traynor, do you have your hand on my bikini ties?"

I grinned. "I do."

"Not in public!"

"Does that mean it's ok in private?"

"Yes. I mean no. I don't … I don't know!" she stammered confused. She looked so cute with her eyebrows furrowed and her face wincing.

I was an awful boyfriend because all I could do was laugh _at_ her.

"It's ok, Clark. Come cuddle." I scooted her over in front of me and wrapped my arms around her, then resumed kissing her shoulder, this time softly.

She breathlessly giggled. "You can't help yourself, can you?"

"I cannot," I boasted, leaving a kiss on her cheek as well. "So, are you going to tell me your 2nd favorite movie or am I going to have to guess?"

"I told you in the car. I'm not telling," she quipped laughing.

"Well, then it has to be just as dreadful as Some Kind of Wonderful. What's worse? Let me think. Is it ….. For Keeps?"

"Uh," Louisa wailed unforgiving. "Even _I_ think that was beneath Molly Ringwald!"

I slowly rolled out choices, observing her body languages, choice of words and tone of voice to give her away and indicate when I was on the right track.

"Flash Gordon?"

"No."

"Ok …. Uncle Buck?"

"No."

"Grease 2?"

"No, but I loved the singing! And Michelle Pfeifer! She was soooooo beautiful!"

"Mannequin?"

"No."

"Short Circuit?"

"Definitely not," she shook her head no with a grimace.

"The Pickup Artist?"

"No."

"Teen Witch?"

"Oooooooo! I LOVE THAT ONE, BUT SADLY NO!"

"Girls Just Want to Have Fun."

"I FORGOT ALL ABOUT THAT! MY THIRD FAVORITE MOVIE! Sarah Jessica Parker! Helen Hunt! Makes me want to watch it now!"

"Something obscure maybe?"

"Under the Rainbow?"

"Never heard. What's that?"

"Chevy Chase, Carrie Fisher, Billy Barty. A screwball comedy set in the Great Depression. Nazis, federal agents and a whole bunch of little people auditioning for the role of Munchkins in the Wizard of Oz at the hotel Under the Rainbow!"

"God no!"

"That I am willing to show you, Clark! It's so terrible I think you just may like!"

"I'll pass, thank you!"

"Lets see ….LABYRINTH?"

"You'd be wise not to insult Labyrinth!"

"Ooooooooooooo! Did I strike a nerve? Is that it? It's Labyrinth, isn't it?"

"No, it is not!" she laughed hard.

"But I'm close, aren't I? It's fantasy!"

"Noooooo!"

I was close now. The over pronunciation of the o. In her denial sealing the deal! "It IS a fantasy movie! Might as well just tell me!"

Louisa became overly flirtatious, playfully taunting me to cover her tracks, and doing so poorly I may add.

"Why?"

"Because I will get it out of you, Clark!"

"How? Hmmmmm?"

"I have my ways!"

"Oh, like what?"

"Tickle torture!"

"I'm immune to tickling, sir!"

"Not my type!"

"Will Traynor, don't you dare!"

"Spoil sport! It's clouding up now. Shall we go?"

Ah, Clark. Saved only by the ominous clouds above.


	40. Chapter 40

**CHAPTER FORTY**

The impromptu passing shower drove us from the beach that day but not from the seaside. We retreated inland for an afternoon exploring Tenby's most charming gift and specialty shops. When we weren't holding hands, we were kissing. My hands cinching her waist pulling her close to me. The self-consciousness she felt over public displays of affection on the beach quickly ceased once she realized we couldn't keep our hands or lips off one another. Soft kisses. Slow kisses. Passionate kisses. Each on display. She giggled every time we came up for air which only elicited an overpowering response in me to kiss her again and again and again.

Compassionate and empathetic, I soon realized Louisa was also sensitive unlike me with a thick skin. I had to be in the world of financier banking. I was not easily upset or insulted and could take almost any criticism well – notwithstanding, of course, unfounded comparisons to my philandering father or baseless accusations of cheating. With Louisa it was different. She had a kind heart, and so any off-colored comment or insult would injure her, just because she wasn't capable of making such statements herself. She was pure of heart, angelic even. In those situations, she sulked – almost emitting a sense of shame – taking the rude and obnoxious people and their opinions to heart.

On one such instance, I was shamelessly still trying to guess her 2nd favorite 1980s flick – which thanks to her tell I now knew was a fantasy movie – and playfully attempted to extract it from her as we left the ice cream parlor. Unapologetically frisky, I did my best to seduce it out of her without being too risqué in public. A tickle here. A tickle there. A stolen kiss. A stolen lick of her ice cream cone. Some nibbling on her neck. My hands surveyed her body, but to no avail she was resolute and unwavering. All failures on my part, although we laughed uncontrollably and loudly. Was it Legend? Lady Hawke? The Dark Crystal? The Neverending Story? She was like a vault, unwilling to give it up. "I cannot be swayed!" she cried victoriously. "Why are you so interested in knowing anyway?" she cooed with a devilish grin! I kissed her passionately and whispered,"Because I want to know everything there is to know about you, Clark!" She giggled flirtatiously before flinging herself into my arms and initiating a passionate kiss herself. That's when she became aware of an elderly couple eating lunch outdoors – staring, whispering, looking on with disgust.

Louisa became noticeably upset. "Don't let them bother you, Clark. We've done nothing to be ashamed of," I reminded her as I kissed her forehead. "They've obviously forgotten what it's like to be in love." She reluctantly agreed, but I knew it still bothered her immensely. In a soft voice, I suggested we give those tossers something to really talk about. "What?! Why?" she shrieked amused. I drew her close to me again and kissed her deeply, resting the palm of my hand on her buttocks. "Will!" she cried in shock. "Well, are they appalled?" "YES, AND stomping off!" she giggled. I may have brought a smile back to her face this time, but how I would manage to do so when she met and interacted with my mum? Camila Traynor would be a whole new animal for her. Resolute, opinionated and stubborn. My good-natured Clark was no match. For starters I would have to make sure not to leave the 2 of them alone together and follow through judiciously reining my mum in and setting down the law.

Unlike the silver-haired couple who found our behavior appalling, our other interactions in Tenby were quite the opposite. Tenby was an enchanting little town, its townspeople who lived and worked there year-round both friendly and welcoming. I could see why Louisa had such happy memories here, and I was thrilled to make new ones with her. Shop owners chatted up Louisa and myself. Where were we from? How long were we together? Where did we meet? Was this our first time in Tenby? Were we on a day trip or on holiday? Would we be returning for the Halloween in Tenby week of events? Maribel of Maribel's Bath Shop, a merry and portly older woman in her 60's who ran the store with her sister-in-law June, took a particular liking to us. "Ah, young lovers first in love! I remember the day I met my husband 43 years ago this month! So special!" Apparently, Maribel and June opened the shop just a few years ago where they sold their own homemade scented line of bath products. Louisa did her Christmas shopping as I followed her around the shop. "What do you think of this scent?" she would ask holding up sampler bottles to my nose to take a whiff and waiting for me to offer my opinion. The French Vanilla, Lavender, and Citrus were her favorites, and she bought coordinating pieces including bath salts for her mum and sister too. I, of course, purchased an oversized Strawberry bubble bath for "bath time", which I whispered into Louisa's ear as she blushed and giggled. "Strawberry's my favorite you know," I told her, kissing her cheek. It was Maribel who suggested we try the Clifton Steak and Chart House for dinner. "Very romantic," she mused. "Tenby Harbor at night!"

We roamed shop to shop that afternoon, and I must admit I spoiled Louisa, even if she insisted I not. In my efforts to make her happy, I went a little overboard. Every time she emitted an "ooh" or an "ahh" at something that caught her eye, I treated her to it – which resulted in a bit of a good-natured tongue-lashing over my over-eagerness to please. "You don't need to buy me everything I say I like or take an interest in! I love you for it, but it's not necessary."

With that said, I became adept at reading her body language and could easily distinguish the difference between a look of interest and "liking" something from a look of "gotta have it" obsession! Such a look appeared the minute we walked into The Shell Shop on Main Street. Her face lit up in wonder as she perused the interior with her eyes. "Oh my God!" she exclaimed. I watched closely as her eyes opened wider each time she saw something even more beautiful. Sea glass and sands in every color. A vast collection of shells. Conch shells. Sand Dollars. Scallop shells. Cockle shells. Bonnet shells. Moon shells. Clam shells. Tulip shells. Welk shells. Starfish. Apothecary jars in every shape and size. Louisa was in bliss.

"Get whatever you want, Clark."

"No, I couldn't," she pleaded.

"Yes, you can," I chuckled. "I know how much you love your shell displays. Get something for your attic and go crazy for the annex. Whatever you want! I _know_ you have your eye on those green and blue sea glass!" She giggled knowing it was the truth.

And crazy she went. Four boxes worth of items to be exact in addition to the day's other shopping bags. Thankfully, my car was parked just a block away, and it took me only 2 round trips to store our purchases safely inside. I promised Louisa a long walk on the Promenade on the cliffs above the 4 beaches of Tenby, and with the day drawing on and becoming significantly cooler and windy, I returned with our fleece jackets.

"Here, Clark. Put your jacket on. It definitely feels like a fall day now." I helped Louisa on with my fleece jacket, which she sadly admitted no longer smelled like me.

"Why? What happened?"

"Treena made me wash it! I drool while sleeping," she confessed cringing.

"I know!" I howled laughing. "Remember? I slept with you last night on your couch!"

She winced apologizing. "I'm so sorry! Did I get any on you? I'm a slobbering mess sometimes ….and …"

"Shhhh, Clark. Don't worry about it. Take mine," I insisted, giving her the same fleece jacket that I had replaced in London. "I'll wear this washed one for now, and we'll swap again next time I come home."

"Really?"

"Really!"

"Are you sure you don't mind? It has a bit of a drool stain I couldn't get out!" she whispered so passersby didn't overhear.

"Positive. What's a little drool, Clark?" I whispered back, holding her chin up as I leaned in and kissed her softly.

She licked her lips and gave a chortle. "Yeah, what's a little drool?" she repeated smiling up at me.

So what if Clark drooled? Or took people's criticisms to heart? I could easily live with both. Certainly not deal breakers by any stretch. Alicia's whole personality was a deal breaker! As was my mum's whom I famously referred to as Grendel's mother from John Gardner's novel when discussing her with Gwen! And don't even get me started on that sister of mine! Louisa hit the jackpot with Treena, in my opinion.

I put my arm around her to keep her warm as the temperature dipped and we strolled towards the Promenade.

"Clark, you're cold! Are you sure you want to walk so close to the water?"

"Yes," she chattered. "I haven't been to Tenby in forever!"

I pulled her into an embrace, wrapping my arms around her, rubbing her shoulders and her back in an attempt to warm her. "May I suggest a hot chocolate first to warm you up?"

We ducked into a tiny café a ¼ of the size of The Buttered Bun where they scooped chocolate right from the tub and steamed it with the perfect amount of milk for a delicious and silky textured cup of hot chocolate – the best I've had if I had to be completely honest. After just a sampling, I wondered if I could say the same about its pastry, especially the croissants. Curiosity got the best I'd me, and I ordered one croissant to share with Clarke, complete with unsalted butter and strawberry jam. To my amazement it was light and fluffy and almost an exact match to my favorite Parisian passtiere I told her.

On the Promeanade, Louisa and I walked hand in hand and stopped midway to cuddle and admire St. Catherine's Island.

"It's a spectacular view, Clark!" I said as I held close to my chest, the wind picking up on the cliffs.

Louisa remarked, "Can you think of any spot better in the world?"

I knew Tenby was her spot, but I had my own. "Paris. Place Dauphine. Right outside the Pont Neuf," I answered nostalgically. It had been some time since I'd last been there. Why hadn't I returned in over a year? She was the reason. I told myself I would return only if I had found her, if she was in my life to share every sensation of it with me. Otherwise, it would never be the same without her I argued to myself. I would sit missing her, like lovers separated by death, of the promise of memories once dreamt but never materialized. How lost I felt in those days I thought.

Gazing into one another's eyes I described in great detail my favorite place in Paris as she intently listened picturing the scenes in her mind.

"The Café Marquis. Seated on its terrace café on one of those metallic chairs that never sat level on the pavement looking out at the Pont Neuf. With a strong coffee and a warm croissant with unsalted butter and strawberry jam."

Louisa chimed in. "So that's the place with the croissant! And my Tenby has a bit of your Paris!"

"Yes, it does," I smiled nodding my head.

"Tell me more, Will."

"Well, the café has a dark green awning and wooden exterior with windows lined with flowers. And it's located in the historic district and heart of Paris with cobblestone streets and medieval architecture, famous museums and hotels. Just a few doors down is L'Artisan Parfumeur. Have you ever heard of a perfume called La Chasse aux Papillions?

She nodded her head no, her eyes transfixed on me … glancing from my eyes to my mouth and back again.

"Sweet tuberose with fresh citrus and hints of peppery spices. It would … it would smell wonderful on you."

I almost didn't finish my thought when I began kissing her passionately, the strong winds whipping at us … the sun waning in the distance…

"The Hotel La Comtesse," I breathlessly began. "I'm going to take you to Paris, Clark. And when I get you there, that's where we'll stay. With the Eiffel Tower in full view from our window, I'm going to make love to you morning, noon and night."

"Oh really?" she giggled, almost embarassed at the thought.

"Yes, really! Consider that a promise."

I wanted to in that moment take her by the hand and drag her off the Promenade to the closest hotel or inn, whichever we came upon first, when Clark interrupted my private fantasy.

"Will, I'm getting cold again. Shall we go back and have dinner?"


	41. Chapter 41

**CHAPTER FORTY-ONE**

"Reservation for Traynor."

Dinner at the Clifton Steak and Chart House. The best seat in the house. A candlelight table overlooking all of Tenby Harbor, its vibrant fleet of ships and sailboats docking for the evening, high up on the 3rd floor enclosed balcony. The warm glow of a crackling fireplace on an autumn evening at the seaside. We arrived at twilight just in time to watch the sunset as the sky transformed into a clear and brilliant starry night, the type for lovers.

"It's so beautiful, Will!" she beamed. "How did you do all this?"

"Maribel," I smirked with tears in my eyes seeing how touched she was at my surprise. "She gave me the contact number for her nephew who manages the place and arranged the whole thing hours ago. Do you like?"

"Like? I LOVE!"

She took both my hands and rising on her toes kissed me, her lip gloss sticky and tasting like watermelon. "You taste delicious," I teased into her ear before holding her chair out and taking the seat across from her. It was one of a few select times during the day when our bodies weren't touching.

It was a month since I met her, and I couldn't imagine life without her. She was different than anyone I'd ever met. Her face now illuminated by the flickering of tea lights, and I couldn't help but reminisce about the past 24 hours with her. That glimmer in her eye as we kissed. The warmth of her body as she snuggled against mine. No one could be as perfect. I didn't care if she was the last woman I kissed. In fact, I was counting on it. I had found the one I loved.

She was so engrossed with the menu that she hadn't even been aware I was observing her comical behavior. One by one she thoroughly read through the savory descriptions of different kinds of steak cuts, seafood dishes, appetizers and sides. Her eyes wide with excitement until she came upon their sticker prices. That's when her face would fall – her eyebrows sloped in unison as if they could slide off her beautiful face one after the other – and she would every now and then longingly glance over at the next table's steak dinner. Mouth watering, seasoned, seared and grilled to perfection. The aroma alone would turn anyone into a raving carnivore.

"Fancy something you like?" I asked curiously, interrupting her dreamy stare.

"Whaaaaaat? What did you say?"

"See something that entices you, Clark?"

"No, no. I'll just stick with a plain old hamburger," Louisa smiled weakly at me, her eyebrows pinned high to her forehead in distress. She snapped the menu closed, placed it back on the table to her right, and patted it twice nodding her head in agreement with her decision. "And a coke."

I sighed deeply and shook my head. "Louisa," I implored her, "Order what you want."

"I can't!" she emphatically stated.

"Of course you can!" I chuckled. "You can't possibly tell me after looking at this menu all you want is a hamburger?"

"It is," she lied more so trying to convince herself rather than me.

"It's not," I assured her in a soft tone. "You've been staring at that women's fillet mignon since we got here!"

"But the burgers are the cheapest things on the menu!" she said in a hushed voice through a fake smile.

"And I didn't bring you here so you could have chop meat made into a patty on a big bun! If you want the fillet mignon, then that's what you'll have!"

Louisa looked cautiously around before leaning over the table and within earshot safely whispered, "Did you see how much the steak costs?"

"I did, and I'm still having one. And so should you!" I whispered back.

"But they're so expensive! I can't. I mean, I couldn't. Look at the price."

"You can and you will!"

"I will?"

"Yes, you most definitely will! And I can't believe you've never tried seafood before!"

"Do frozen fish sticks count?"

"No, they certainly don't!" I laughed. "What do you say we order a sampler platter so you can try a bit of everything. Would you like that?"

She nodded her head yes and smiled. " Will Traynor, you're so good to me!

"Get used to it, Clark! I think you know what you want. Are you ready to order then?"

"I am!"

I motioned to our server who returned to take our order, and Clark was at her most adorable yet. Giggling, she mischievously grinned and pursed her lips, gesturing to the next table with a pointed finger. "I want that, but ummmmm … with extra sour cream on the baked potato please!"

I couldn't help but grin and order the same – 2 fillet mignons well done, with baked potato, extra sour cream, a large seafood sampler with oyster, lobster, shrimp, muscles, crab meat, and salmon as an appetizer, and a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.

There was just something not right about the evening so far. "Clark, this isn't us," I stated hesitantly as I stared directly at her from across the table.

"What do you mean?" she looked at me confused, head cocked and mouth agape.

"You're too far away. You and me. We don't sit across a table. That's not us. We sit and stand close."

"Oh I know, it does feel weird. Doesn't it?" she breathlessly replied.

"Let's scoot over so that both of us can look out at the harbor." I didn't need to convince her. She shrugged giggling like a naughty school girl up to no good and scooted over mid way to meet me so that we were both taking in the view.

"Better?" she asked.

"Not yet, Clark. Come closer." I bit my lip then smiled, and stroking her cheek guided her face towards mine for a long passionate kiss.

She was downright giddy but worried afterwards about our rearrangement of seating and kissing. "Do you think they'll say anything? Kick us out?"

I couldn't help but be sarcastic and tease her. "No, especially not after the amount of money I'm dropping tonight!"

Her mouth hit the floor.

"What? Just how much are you spending?"

I continued to joke with her. "It's better you not know!"

"Will!"

"No fretting. Just enjoy the evening."

And enjoy the evening we did.

There were spontaneous long kisses. And short gentle kisses. Loud laughing. Crying because we laughed so hard. Private intimate jokes. Whispers in the ear. The locking of eyes. Playing with one another's hair. Holding one another's hands. My arm around her. I especially enjoyed myself when she rested her hand on the nape of my neck. The tingling sensation I felt, my body pulsating with desire. I seemed to become a bit giddy myself during those moments.

"Ewwwww! Don't kiss me with that mouth!" she cried in laughter, crinkling her nose and covering her mouth. "That crab meat is _sooooooo disgusting! _How can you eat that?" She _hated _everything on the sampler platter but for the breaded shrimp and smoked salmon slices, which were "_just ok" – _her words not mine. "I think I prefer my frozen fish sticks!" But her tune changed with the main course. She raved from the first bite of her fillet mignon! _"Absolutely divine!"_ she repeated over and over in an overly dramatic way, raising her eyes to the heavens. "I hope you say the same thing once you've had me, Clark!" I teased as she drank her wine almost spitting it out. And every time our waiter stopped by to ask us how we were enjoying our meal, Louisa let out a breathy but resounding, "_WONDERFUL!"_

We talked endlessly.

"You what?"

"Walked in on my parents having sex! And 9 months later Georgina was born!"

"Gross! How old were you?"

"8!"

"And that didn't scar you for life?"

"Apparently not, but finding out that my dad was once engaged to my mum's older sister who ran off with a man my grandparents didn't approve of surely did!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"Your mum married her sister's sloppy seconds? It's like Treena marrying you!"

"Yes! And my aunt married the bloke too. It was a huge scandal for both sides of the family! And my dad still flirts with my Aunt Lydia at family events every chance he gets. Tells her in front of my Uncle Stephen and my mum that she was "the one who got away!"

"Ewwww!"

"Don't ever turn your backside towards him by the way!"

"Good to know!"

I told Louisa all about my first kiss which occurred in front of the drawbridge of the Castle and how the same girl dumped me one week later for the kid who worked at the mini mart. Dark- slicked back hair, tattooed.

"Terry Rowlands?"

"Yeah, that was his name. Why?"

"He still works there! Got tatted sleeves now! Wait! You got dumped for Terry Rowlands? Awwwww, you poor thing!" she stammered – partly consoling me, mostly mocking me.

"I cried for a week! Don't laugh at me." I insisted.

And I also shared with her how lonely I was as a child, how my parents constantly argued, how I wandered the Castle after hours alone to seek solace, how I once took a sword on display to pretend I was a knight and then couldn't place it back on its stand. The enormous trouble I got into!

"Georgina was born soon after. I thought back then that she my punishment for the sword incident!" I admitted.

"Oh, Will! That's awful!"

"But now I think she was born to try to save that marriage."

"Sounds terrible!"

"But I had Old Buckley! He was my best friend, especially when my mum and dad fought!"

"Who's Old Buckley? Your butler?"

"No, my teddy bear!"

"No way, Will Traynor!"

"I believe Old Buckley is somewhere in the basement at Granta House in 2 pieces!"

"Two pieces! What happened?"

"Georgina!"

"No! What did she do?"

"Georgina's always been rather jealous of me, always thought I outshined her. So before I left for university I won first-place in a regional swimming competition, and she knew I kept Old Buckley in my closet and took a pair of scissors to his head."

"Really? That's downright diabolical!"

"My sister and I still fight about Buckley to this day! Maybe if we can find him, might you be able to sew him back together?"

"Maybe," she said heartbroken and touched by my request. "It depends on how threadbare the material is, if I have anything to attach his head to. But I'm happy to look at him and try!"

"I'm going to hold you to that, Clark!"

Sharing a piece of decadent chocolate cake for dessert, Louisa then made a shocking discovery about me.

"Swimming with sharks?!" she exclaimed, completely floored and unable to think about what to say or do next. She certainly wasn't expecting that answer.

"Yes, why is that so hard to believe?" I chuckled. "You asked me what my dream adventure would be, and I've been completely honest with you!"

She took a sip of her second Cabernet Sauvignon and playfully boasted, "That's downright suicide, Will! I absolutely forbid it!"

"You forbid it?" I teased, grinning from ear to ear. Someone's in love with me, I thought.

"Yes, that's right. Now that God has brought you into my life, I couldn't imagine a crueler fate than to live without you! What would you say about that, hmmm?"

It was the first time I thought about New York today. And the motorbike. How close her statement came to becoming a reality 2 nights ago!

"I would say I would never leave you by choice. And you did say 'dream adventure.'"

Relieved, Louisa held her hand up to her chest. "So no sharks?"

"Well, I never said that!" I jested as a horrified look crossed her face again. Reaching for her hand across the table, I brought it up to my lips and gently kissed it in an attempt to soothe her. "Only if you decide to come with me on my little adventure. Did I pique your interest any?"

"No!" she shouted and quickly withdrew her hand from mine just as quickly as I reached for it again.

I couldn't help but continue to tease her.

"Ah, that's what you said this morning about riding the waves!"

"Well, this time I mean it! Never!"

"Never say never, Clark!" I quipped sarcastically. "You know my old university roommate was a bio engineering major and was quite literally obsessed with sharks. He actually acquired private funding to do research in the Bahamas developing shark repellent."

Really?"

"Yes, really. He's been quite successful. We could always visit and help him test out his product! Give our bodies to science?"

She lowered her voice and with a devilish grin flirtatiously declared, "The only one I'm giving my body to is you!"

"Ohhhhhh," I chuckled again this time pleasantly surprised. "Is that right, Clark?"

"It is," she breathlessly whispered, biting her lip and giggling as she took another sip of her Cabernet Sauvignon.

"Quite the admission, Clark!"

"I've been thinking about it all throughout dinner!" she confessed.

"Are you a bit tipsy again?" I joked. "I'm not sure you can hold your Cabernet Sauvignon. Perhaps one's your limit! Shall we get you a strong coffee?"

"Absolutely not! This has been the best day ever!" she declared giggling.

"Well, the day's not over, Clark!" I reminded her with a wide smile.

"And I've never had a steak so good! So tender and moist! _Thank_ _you_ … _thank_ _you_ … _thank_ _you_ for making me order it! It's certainly not like the kind you buy from the supermarket."

"No, it is not," I laughed "Are you sure you don't want a coffee? Perhaps a strong espresso?"

"No! Why are you trying to pump coffee into me?"

"Because it's not my style to take advantage of a girl who's been drinking!"

"Well, who's to say I won't be the one taking advantage of you, Will Traynor! Hmmmmmmm?"

"Well, it is my firm belief that anything worth doing is worth remembering! So that's that!"

"What is that you called me earlier? Spoiled sport! Right back at you! Besides, I plan on attacking you in the car!"

And as soon as we left the restaurant, Louisa made her move …


	42. Chapter 42

**CHAPTER FORTY-TWO**

"Mhm …. uh-huh!" I kept repeating over and over again between frenzied kisses. I didn't even know what I was agreeing to, but it felt so damn good that that's all I could think about.

"Done, Clark." I remember saying as I desperately kissed her neck.

"Really?!" Thrilled, Louisa sat up straight face to face with me.

"Yes!"

"So you're staying another day?!"

Is that what I had agreed to? So be it! I didn't know how I was going to explain my absence at work. Screw it, I thought. I didn't want to return to London either. I'd figure out some excuse – maybe an emergency at the Castle with the engineer or architect or BOTH, if I could dream up a plausible story! The one thing I couldn't do was disappoint that excited face of hers. And I didn't want to stop kissing her tonight. I really didn't want to stop kissing her. Soon I would be my own boss, and there would be no inconvenience … for times like this.

"Yes!" I smiled licking my lips, waiting for it …

"Oh Will!" she shrieked. And that was the impetus that set her off for round 3 (or was it round 4) of a marathon makeout session that evening.

Ever since I closed the door on the passenger side and sat in the driver's seat – just as she predicted – she was immediately all over me. Louisa kicked off her narrow, white sketcher slip on sneakers and flopped on top of me with a wild smile. She slipped her arms around my neck and stroked my hair with her fingertips. I had to adjust my seat just to fit her comfortably.

Gazing into my eyes, she smiled. "I don't want to go home yet, Will."

"Ok," I replied, my hands rubbing her back. It was easy to surrender myself to her wishes, and Tenby was such a magical place for us so far that I could understand why it was a hard place to leave. Perhaps it offered even more surprises to come.

"Ok," she whispered, nodding her head with a huge smile. She placed her hand on the back of my neck and began kissing me. At first she kept rambling something or other which I didn't quite understand. "You make me forget everything." "All my fears vanish when I'm with you!" "I feel so free when I'm with you."

I managed to get a few breathless words out. "What are you talking about, Clark?"

There was no verbal response. She just stopped, looked me in the eye and then continued on in an uninhibited display of affection, her body so fluid as she moved wrapped around mine.

We kissed passionately then frenzied, our hands and lips frantic for another touch. My hands on her back, holding her firmly and close to me, running my hands to her lower back. Somehow Louisa managed to remove my fleece jacket and toss it in the back seat! I didn't even know how she did that with my one hand on the back of her head and the other gliding up the back of her sweatshirt. She ran her fingers through my hair – sometimes gently other times not so much – and to my surprise worked to untuck my shirt and run her hands up and down my chest.

By the time I realized I would be staying in Stortford an extra day and there was no need to get back tonight, things escalated even further. Her bikini top was untied, my shirt unbuttoned and halfway off my shoulders.

I was so glad I was in Tenby … with her. A hotel room. That's all I kept thinking. I needed to get her indoors to continue this. I wanted to spend the night with her.

"Louisa, let's stay in Tenby tonight."

"What?" she asked distracted, her first priority kissing not listening.

"Let's get a hotel room tonight!" I laughed, amused by her unwavering focus on what she was doing.

She was half- listening. "Huh?"

I was breathless from all the kissing, and my lips were stinging me. In a very, very tender voice, I tried to garner her attention as she continued to nibble on my ear. "Louisa? Louisa?"

"Uh huh …."

"Louisa, we can't stay in the car like this. So let's move _this_ to a hotel room. What do you say?" I begged gently.

"Uh-uh …."

"No!" I laughed surprised. "We're parked under a streetlight. We can't stay like this here."

She shook her head still nibbling on my ear and let out a breathless quick reply. "No, I'm not ready."

"Clark, we're half undressed in a car, and you've removed my belt!"

When she heard this last part, she stopped kissing me, and we were now eye to eye.

"Umm….. it was hurting my legs," she answered trepidatiously – weary of my response, her face fretting.

I was dumbfounded. "It was hurting your legs?"

"Yeah ….," she winced.

I shook my head bewildered and then placed a soft kiss on her lips to reassure her. "Ok, so what do you suppose we do?"

"I don't know," she grimaced.

"Well, if we continue at this rate our first time together will be in a parked car under a streetlight. Or, there's another option and we take this to a warm, lovely and private hotel room with a seaside view?"

Panic flashed across her face, and I didn't know how to read that. I felt the need to jump in, to save her from herself.

"So, here's what I'm thinking: as much as my body wants to drag you to the closest hotel, my mind wants our first time together to be extra special and romantic, and these options are neither in my eyes. So let's start back home, ok?"

She looked relieved and nodded her head yes.

I kissed her again and smirked. "You'll have to get off me if I'm to drive, Clark?"

"Right," she uttered embarassed and slowly climbed back off me into the passenger seat where I buckled her in myself before starting the engine.

The whole way back to Stortford Louisa was oddly silent, and every time I glanced in her direction, she sat looking over at me with an odd mix of pensiveness and hesitation. It looked like she wanted to tell me something but never did. I gave her the chance though.

"Clark, what's going on in that head of yours? Is there something you want to talk about?"

She pursed her lips and shook her head no in response, to which I reached over and gave her hand a squeeze.

"Are you sure?"

"Yep," she smiled although I was not so easily convinced. What I was convinced of, however, was that I didn't want the evening to end. I didn't want to say goodnight … not just yet.

When we re-entered Stortford, I headed in the opposite direction of her house. "Where are we going?" she asked curiously.

"We're on a mission. I thought maybe we'd break Old Buckley out tonight!"

"What?!" she exclaimed with a look of shock. "We're going to Granta House this time of night to rummage through your basement to find your decapitated teddy bear?"

"Yes, are you in or not?" I grinned.

"I'm in!"

I couldn't help but chuckle. "Georgina's going to spit nails if you're able to reattach Old Buckley! I think I might wrap him up as her Christmas gift this year! Not to keep, of course, but as a gag gift!"

"Will, do you really hate your sister that much?"

"YES! You don't know her yet, Clark! She's such a brat, a real pain in the arse!"

"Do you like _any_ of your family members?"

"No. Well, that's not entirely true. My Aunt Lydia and my Uncle Stephen I told you about. And their kids, my cousins. The "_poorer_" relations of my mum's family. They're normal. But my immediate family –not so much."

Granta House was locked up for the evening, and no lights appeared to be on. The staff would return Monday morning, and it looked like my mum had turned in early for the night as she usually did on Sundays.

We snuck up to the main door of Granta House. My partner in crime took her role as my sidekick quite seriously as she stayed behind me tip toeing. She wore the goofiest and mischevious of smiles and her giddiness far exceeded anything I had yet seen.

I was both laughing and concerned at the same time.

"Are you ok, Clark?"

"Why do you ask?"

"You're fidgeting and more giddy than I've ever seen you is why!"

"Ah yeah! Just excited!" she squealed hopping up and down. "I can't believe we're breaking into Granta House!"

"You can't break in if you have a key, Clark!" I whispered sarcastically.

"Well yeah … you know what I mean!"

I turned my key and slowly opened the door to minimize the sounds I knew it made on its squeaky hinges and quietly stepped into the doorway to disarm the security alarm.

I turned to Louisa who was giggling and instructed her in a soft tone,"Shhhhhhhhhh. My mum's a light sleeper. What you want her to hear, she doesn't. What you don't want her to hear, she does! Only whispers from here on in."

Louisa quickly shook her head yes and spoke in a whisper as requested. "Are you sure your mum's even home? The place looks empty."

"Yes, her car's in the driveway, and she turns in early on Sunday evenings. She always has early court appearances on Mondays."

I gestured my head to start in and led the way, taking her hand in mine and holding my iPhone in flashlight mode in the other.

"Easy now, a few of these boards creak. Don't make any sudden or loud movements, and try not to knock anything over or I'll never hear the end of it. Just stay close behind me."

We tiptoed passed the foyer and into the drawing room towards the kitchen and basement entrance when Louisa came to a complete stop. "Wow! It looks like a museum in here!"

"If you like old and stodgy, Clark!" I quipped. "Come on, let's go." I gently kissed her temple and gave her arm a little tug forward when she came to a complete stop for the second time.

"Will, is that you?" she cried as she released my hand and covered her mouth in shock.

"Yes, I was 6. My life before Georgina!"

"Awwwwwwwwwww! You were soooooooo cute!" she cooed. "And missing a font tooth!"

For the first time since our makeup sessions broke up, we kissed. Truly kissed. She stood up on her toes and kissed me with the same intensity from earlier. I wanted to steal her away again. I so wished the annex was not a construction site but completed – to be alone with her privately, where we could just stay put without an audience or fear of anyone interrupting us, a place all our own. I kept licking my lips, the taste of her watermelon lip gloss was driving me insane.

"Want to see the wine cellar too, Clark? Pick out a champagne for dinner tomorrow?"

Her voice boomed in surprise. "No way! You have a wine cellar? I thought only people on TV had wine cellars!"

"Shhhhh. Let's not wake up my mum, huh?"

"Sorry," she sighed apologetically.

"Yes, I have a wine cellar, and it's just beyond the storage room." I walked a few paces ahead and held out my hand for her. "Are you coming?"

She joined me with a wide smile, and with a few turns through the halls of Granta House we arrived in the kitchen and accessed the basement door.


	43. Chapter 43

**CHAPTER FORTY-THREE**

Old Buckley lay tattered and torn apart in 2 pieces, his head sitting upright next to his body on the counter top next to an unopened bottle of Dom Perignon, where I had quickly placed them both to engage in some rough and boisterous play with Louisa, who after a mad dash up from the basement, I now had pinned against the kitchen island as I emerged the victor. With the kitchen window as a backdrop, our moving bodies basked in the moonlight casting larger-than-life shadowy figures illuminating the walls.

I was ravenous. Insatiable. No one kiss was enough. This time I had a very hard time controlling my urges, so much so that my mum's kitchen took center stage for some massive fooling around. Our voices and laughter filling the room. I knew better though. It was a matter of poor timing and a lack of self-control on my part. I was totally responsible for what occurred, and I could have kicked myself in the arse for not having heeded the little voices in my head telling me not to hang around Granta House a second more than I needed to and for lacking severe foresight and putting Louisa in this position to begin with.

Those two should have never met that way. Not yet. And certainly not tonight.

We spent our first 20 minutes in the storage room rummaging through boxes without any luck finding Old Buckley. But we did find some treasures along the way. Some ancient photos of my parents from before I was born. I had a hearty laugh when Louisa found out that both my dad and my uncle shared the same first name." And the same woman!" she cringed. "So weird!" I was, however, pleasantly surprised when we came upon a box of old trophies and medals from my days as a swimming champion. "Jesus, Will! Are all these yours?!" I reminded her of earlier in the day, of trying to convince her to join me on my surfboard, how I had told her I was an excellent swimmer, that I wouldn't let anything happen to her. "Excellent? Looks to me like you were phenomenal!" she raved on and on like a fan girl, reading my trophies and medals aloud. "What was your best event?" she wanted to know with starry-eyes. Two of the most difficult swims and hardest races I answered. The 50 Freestyle and 200 Backstroke. The 50, although the shortest, was the hardest to drop time in. There was no room for error – it was all splash and dash, 0 to 100 in hundredths of a second. I told her that I was an excellent sprinter, that I had won that very race the day Georgina took a pair of scissors to Old Buckley, that the swim's difficulty level only emboldened my sister's jealousy and drastic response. As for the 200 Backstroke, I explained, it was the most tiresome of all swim strokes. It required you to use your legs the entire swim and to swim off the walls on underwater dolphin kicks." "Dolphins?!" She grinned devilishly, boasting that when we first met she had told one Katrina Clark that I had the body of a dolphin! "See, I was right!" she cackled proudly, her eyes crinkling as she laughed. I was impressed. "Nice call, Clark!" And I rewarded her handsomely for such an astute observation, placing the medal I won the day of Old Buckley's demise around her neck and with it in hand drew her forward into a very passionate kiss.

Buckley,however, made an appearance not too long afterwards. I soon discovered him alone in a garbage bag … in 2 pieces just as I remembered. My mum cleaned out both my and Georgina's rooms when she had the second floor of Granta House renovated into two wings several years ago – one for herself and one for my dad – so that they could live apart under one roof and still keep up appearances. "An open marriage" they said. At least on my dad's part. "The arrangement." All of my remaining belongings were packaged by the staff and stored in the basement since I had lived in London full-time since first attending university. Unlike Georgina who kept a bedroom here, I stayed in guest rooms while visiting in whosoever wing I could stand more at any given point in time. Sometimes it was in my mum's, sometimes in my dad's. "Clark, can he be put back together?" Maybe was her best guess. "Some of the material is threadbare, but I'm hopeful!" She promised to take him home where she could access the real damage under good lighting and figure out the best way to salvage him, if at all possible. That's all I could ask of her. "No pressure, Clark. Do what you can!"

As it turned out, Louisa had never been in a wine cellar and had no idea wine required temperature controlled settings . "I'm so cold!" she chattered jumping in my arms. She giggled up a storm when I told her the best way to warm up was to get naked together . "It's been proven by science," I insisted. As luck would have it, our fleece jackets were in the car, and I offered a demonstration. "You'll do anything to see me naked, Will Traynor!" she playfully mocked. I agreed unapologetically, which sent her into another fit of giggles as I held her in my arms. "Let me show you," I teased. I distracted her with a passionate kiss and aptly removed her bikini top from underneath her sweatshirt. Two sets of stringed ties undone in a matter of seconds. "Will Traynor!" she shrieked, snatching her bikini top from my hands and bolted from the wine cellar, giggling her way back up the steps to the kitchen. I laughed shaking my head and grabbed the Dom Perignon that Louisa referred to as "the good stuff" as well as both pieces of Buckley and re-joined her in the kitchen. There we engaged in some lively and spirited horseplay against the kitchen island wrestling for her bikini top. It wasn't hard to overpower her, and when I did, I stuffed her bikini top into my pants pocket, strings hanging, with my hands free to roam her body. I could not get enough of her kisses and the taste of her watermelon lip gloss, which was so deliciously sticky that it left behind layered traces of itself on her neck and bare shoulder from our marathon makeup sessions in Tenby and from the current moment's kissing.

A single voice emerged from the distant darkness coming towards the kitchen area and took us by surprise.

"William, I heard your voice from upstairs. What are you doing here this time of night?"

Louisa and I jumped, our backs straightened stiff, and we managed to unwrap ourselves from one another in barely enough time before my mum flipped the kitchen lights on. We were almost caught by Josie Clark, but this was so much, much worse than imaginable. I knew better too.

At least we were dressed, I thought, and I had the good mind to straighten out Louisa the best I could in seconds before the lights came on. I didn't care about myself, just Louisa who looked like a deer in highlights.

"Mum," I greeted her with a smile, my arm around Louisa gripping her tightly.

"William!" she gasped disapprovingly at our disheveled appearances.

I introduced the two immediately to avoid more awkwardness although there was no way around that. "Mother, Louisa Clark. Louisa, my mum."

With a ridiculous smile and her eyebrows in full flight, Louisa curtseyed stumbling over her words in fright. "Hi Mrs. Traynor. I'm … I'm Lou."

I whispered into Louisa's hair. "Don't curtsey, Clark."

"Yeah, ok," she winced.

My mother stared coldly at her.

"Louisa and I came by to rescue Old Buckley over there from the basement. Louisa's a talented seamstress. She makes some beautiful children's costumes, and she's offered to restore the little guy for me, if possible."

"I see."

Stammering again, Louisa added smiling, "I sell some of my totes and makeup bags at one of Will's friend's London boutiques! Will arranged it all for me."

"Is that true, Will?"

"Yes, Mother. I did. They're selling well actually. There 's been some demand for them too! I'm quite happy with the outcome. "

"And I've made more money than I do working at the café in a week!"

"You work at a café, Miss Clark?"

"Um … the Buttered Bun. It's um … um … it's right across the street from …"

My mum broke in angrily. "I know where it is, Miss Clark. You're a waitress?!"

I took over the conversation. "Yes, Mum. Louisa works at the Buttered Bun, AND she sells her designs, some at Kat's boutique, some online, and some at the Hailsbury Market. We met at the Stadium one morning."

My mum was fuming. "Before or after you suggested your father sell you the Castle?"

"Before."

"I see. Are you aware your lips are swollen, Will?!" she snapped.

"Yes!" I smirked, acutely aware of that fact and that Louisa's lip gloss had transferred and smeared all over my lips.

Embarassed, Louisa's eyes flashed open wide in a panic. She began to frantically wipe traces of her lip gloss off my lips with her finger. It was far too late for that. I pursed my lips no and shook my head to stop. My mum already knew what had transpired between us, and I think I was the only one in the room glad of it too.

"We did eat fish tonight. Maybe Will's allergic," she stammered again, trying to offer my mum an alternative explanation and feigning as much cheerfulness as possible.

My mum was none too amused.

Louisa's countenance fell, and I slinked my arm around her waist to comfort her. "My lips are fine, Mum."

Louisa's nerves got the best of her. Before I could stop her, and n an effort to redeem herself in my mum's eyes, she foolishly and nervously allowed her chattiness to run amuck.

Overemphasizing every syllable she dreamily blurted, "Will took me to Tenby today, and we rode the whitewater on his surfboard all morning and had the most divine steak dinner!"

My mum's face drained of color and went blank. Louisa gave herself away. She wasn't some village girl out for a good time with lothario Will Traynor. She was in love with me, and my mum knew it. She was furious, and Louisa petrified by her reaction.

I gently pulled Louisa back against me and directly addressed my mum in hopes of drawing her attention onto me instead. "It was my idea to go," I smiled. "I stole Louisa away to the seaside."

My comments were indeed enough to sway my mum's icy glances away from Louisa and to fall where I wanted them to – squarely on me.

Louisa, however, couldn't leave well enough alone, and soon my mum's anger was redirected towards her.

"You raised … you raised such a wonderful son, Mrs. Traynor."

"Yes well, Miss Clark, I didn't raise him for you!"

Tears welled up in Louisa's eyes, her voice cracking. "Well, I just meant …"

"Louisa, no," I stopped her. "You don't need to justify yourself to my mum. She knows it was a compliment. And mum, that's where you graciously say thank you to my guest."

My mum was momentarily silenced, her face petulant and indignant. "Will, we need to talk!" she demanded.

I answered her sharply for her unnecessary rudeness towards Louisa. "Yeah, we do!"

"No, we need to talk about New York. Tonight, Will."

"New York? Ah, so you know! Why doesn't that surprise me?"

Louisa was clearly uncomfortable watching our heated mother-son exchange.

"Clark," I suggested tenderly. "Let's get you home, ok?"

She nodded her head in agreement.

"I'll be waiting for you in your father's study when you return this evening, Will."

Although my mum didn't deserve it, Louisa wished her a polite goodbye. "Goodnight, Mrs. Traynor. It was lovely meeting you!"

Unfortunately, my mum wasn't as gracious, making her feelings for Louisa absolutely clear. "I wish I could say the same, Miss Clark. Please see yourselves out. And get some ice on your lips, Will! I can't stand looking at you like that!"

When she was far out of earshot, a horrified Louisa shrilled, "THAT'S YOUR MUM?"


	44. Chapter 44

**CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR**

_**A special thanks to all who are following my story and for your patience this week as I prepare for the opening of my online shop! **_

_**Happy Labor Day to all my fellow Americans! **_

I was apologetic, profusely apologetic. And I didn't know how I would ever make it up to her.

"My mum is not for the faint-hearted, Clark. I'm so sorry about tonight. Are you ok?"

Clearly, she was not from the looks of her. Shaken. Mortified. On the verge of tears. Louisa was visibly upset, and I couldn't blame her. She was also silent, and that beyond anything else worried me. I felt in one word – helpless.

"She was dreadful to you. There's no excuse. Clark, please say something." I felt so responsible, just awful about the events with my mum that transpired in the last few minutes here at Granta House.

When she finally spoke, it wasn't much. She pulled her bikini top from my pants pocket, and I didn't fight her on it. At any other time, I would have teased her with it for another playful romp. But tonight was not such a time. "Is there … is there someplace I can dress privately?"

"Yeah, of course, Clark," I gently answered as I rubbed her shoulders and led her down a hallway to the loo. "I'll wait here for you."

"No, don't. I just want to be alone right now for a few minutes if you don't mind."

I nodded respecting her wishes. "I'll wait in the kitchen then."

I didn't leave right away, and a few seconds after Louisa closed the door behind her I heard sobbing. I thought it best to give her the privacy she desired, and about 10 minutes later she re- emerged in the doorway of the kitchen, her bikini top retied around her neck underneath her sweatshirt and with red eyes from a good cry.

"Will, can you take me home now?" she quietly asked.

"Anything you want."

"Did you speak to your mum while I was in the loo?"

"No, I didn't, Clark," I shook my head. "You come first. And besides, I need to cool off before I do."

She smiled weakly with tears in her eyes and reminded me of a famous saying. "Cooler heads prevail. Isn't that what they say?"

The sight of her ripped my heart out.

"Oh, Clark. Come here." I scooped her into my arms squeezing her tightly, and resting my head against hers, kissed her forehead. "Come on. Your chariot awaits."

What a mess!

She looked numb when she sat down in the passenger seat of my SUV, and what was most troublesome was that her silence was now accompanied by an inability to look me in the eye. I knelt down next to her and strapped her seatbelt on.

"Clark, look at me," I begged tenderly although unsuccessfully.

She stared off in the distance. "She hates me, Will!"

"She just doesn't know you."

"I think she doesn't want to know me," she wept in a broken voice.

She had a point, but I couldn't tell her that. My mum was a snob and a classist, but this had far more to do with me not doing what she wanted – which was to reconcile with Alicia – than it did with Louisa personally.

"My mum's problem is ultimately with me, Clark. She has her own ideas about how her children's lives should be. That's all it is."

"I'm sure her plans for you don't involve dating a waitress!"

"Louisa, stop. You're more than that," I assured her taking her hand. "Don't let my mum get in your head. And don't let her ruin our wonderful day."

She finally looked at me, uncertain and doubtful about our us. "But maybe your mum's right … "

"No," I insisted.

"But …,"

I kept cutting her off.

"No."

"Yeah I know but …,"

"No. Don't even think about breaking up with me because of my mum. It's not going to happen."

"But Will …,"

"No. Don't you dare give my mum so much power over you. I have my heart set on you, Clark."

"Well, people are going to ask what you're doing with me, what you could possibly see in me."

Ah, my mum! Preying on Louisa – stirring up her insecurities, putting bad thoughts in her head! It certainly worked, and now I would have to undo the damage. My mum and I were indeed going to have to have a serious talk! The one I wanted, not the one she wanted. And there would have to be serious consequences going forward with any continued ill-behavior towards Louisa.

"First, I don't really care what people will say or think. Our relationship is between you and me and no one else. Secondly, I've never been happier than when I'm with you. I thought you felt the same, Clark."

"I do, " she insisted.

"Then no more second- guessing yourself, and no more listening to my mum or caring what other people think like that old couple in Tenby."

Louisa was stubborn in her own right, justifying her concerns which I understood and could empathize with. "But I just want your family to like me the way my family likes you."

"I know you do, and I want that for you too. It feels good to be wanted and accepted. There's nothing wrong with that. But the truth is that might not happen with my family. No fault of your own. They're difficult people with complex personalities. That's no excuse for their bad behavior. I'm not even sure they like one another. Most of the time I certainly don't like them."

"Yeah, ok. Maybe," she responded disheartened. I stroked the side of her cheek, then grinned. "Think of it like this – I guess you'll just have to settle for me, Clark! I'd like to think I'm the best of the Traynors, and I just happen to be insanely in love with you!"

"Not madly in love anymore?" she teased, finally smiling.

"No, I'm pretty sure insanely," I laughed.

Louisa grabbed me by my shirt collar into a long passionate kiss until we were both startled by the slamming of the front door.

"Your mum? Wondering what's taking you so long I'm sure," she winced sinking in her seat.

"Yeah, but I don't care and neither should you, Clark. Ok?"

She nodded hesitantly.

At this time of night with the village streets empty, we arrived at the Clark home in record time. I didn't want to simply drop Louisa off home and quickly return to Granta House in fear she'd lie awake worrying about the disastrous end of our otherwise perfect day together. I wanted to leave her to drift off to sleep blissfully happy, the way the day should have ended. And I was committed to giving her that.

I urged her to take a hot shower, and in the meantime that I would bring all of the day's purchases up to her attic. Louisa kept insisting she help me.

"Are you sure I can't help?"

"Absolutely, Clark. You get ready for bed, and leave the rest to me."

What Louisa wasn't aware of yet was that I had turned down her bed, fluffed her pillows, positioned my fleece jacket on her bed and illuminated the attic with her collection of lanterns. Then I waited for her.

"Your mattress is comfortable, Clark. I'll give you that, but your bed's entirely too small!" I teased grinning as she opened the door to her attic to find me stretched out in the her queen-sized bed, propped up by pillows and holding 2 glasses of chilled champagne in hand – the good stuff she chose earlier tonight – covertly smuggled out of Granta House in a box with Old Buckley.

"Will!" she exclaimed surprised and touched by my little gesture. "What did you do in here?! Isn't your mum expecting you back?"

"She is, but it's only 11:25, and I think I have a few minutes for a quick glass of champagne and a proper kiss goodnight! Don't you?"

Louisa began to giggle, almost like she harbored a secret joke with only herself. I took all of her in – her newly blown out hair pushed to one side and cascading off one shoulder. A simple white camisole and gray capris joggers. And her bumblebee slippers. It was hard to look at her and not want to undress her.

"What's so funny, Clark? Care to share?" I smugly asked.

"No!" she giggled embarassed as if we didn't already have some familiarity with one another's bodies.

"Is it the image of me in your bed?"

She nodded her head bashfully as her giddiness took a strong hold of her. I smirked at the absurdity of her reaction given that I was fully dressed but for my shoes and just a few hours ago she was kissing me frenzied and undressing me in my SUV beneath a lamppost in Tenby. I made the slightest movement to stand up to carry over the fluted glasses of champagne to her when I was instructed, "Don't!"

"You stay where you are!" she said giggling intermittently and giving me the eye. I knew that look well, And I knew what was coming and watched her intently as she climbed on top of me for the third time in 2 days.

Gazing into her eyes I whispered, "Careful of the champagne, Clark."

"Ok," she whispered back.

"You like it up here, don't you?"

"Yeah," she grinned. "But Patrick said,"

I interrupted her perplexed and laughing. "What? Running Man? How did he get into bed with us, Clark? How did he get back into that gorgeous head of yours?"

"No, no. Just … just listen …"

"Do I want to know?" I teased in a roar of laughter.

"Shhhh. Stop it. Just listen."

I rolled my eyes and grimaced. I wasn't sure I wanted to hear about Louisa on top of Running Man.

"So Pat always said that if … IF I were on top, I wouldn't know what to do with a man!"

"Another insult! Great! How did I know? So you never?"

"No, never. But I like … I like climbing on top of you!"

"I can see that, and I quite enjoy you in charge!"

Her short intermittent bad girl giggles started all over again, and I adored her for all her silliness and the nonstop frenzied affection that soon always followed and left me feeling ravaged and more alive than I've ever felt.

Louisa took the fluted glass and had a long sip of her champagne, then placed it on her end table and taking mine, laid it besides hers. I was mesmerized by her every movement and looking into her eyes, I licked my lips and waited for it.

Giggling, she kissed me softly then passionately as she leaned her body into mine. My hands roamed up and down her back with one hand finally gripping her backside, pushing her against me even more and nestling deep into the pillows behind me.

I realized that I had never felt this type of sexual tension before. Things escalated between me and Louisa from 0-60 in a flash, so quickly, so frequently.

Nothing was enough. I always wanted more.

I slid the straps of her camisole off both shoulders and low down her arms and cupped her breasts.

"Uh-uh," she uttered between kisses, making her way to my neck, pulling the straps of her camisole back up, although both still rested completely off her shoulders.

"No? Why, Clark? Please." I whispered, playfully grabbing hold of both her bumblebee slippers so she explained herself.

"Because we have an audience," she smiled mischievously, gesturing the Old Buckley across the room.

"Old Buckley? You can't be serious." I quipped back. "Tell me the real reason."

"Because I don't want my family walking in on us either after what happened tonight, and your mum's waiting."

"Are you throwing me out?" I joked.

"Yes!" she laughed as she played with my hair at the nape of my neck. "But you do have to go. If you don't show up, your mum is going to blame me. I know it!"

"Are you sure you want me to go, Clark? Just say the word," I begged, "And I'll text my mum and tell her not to wait up."

She nodded no, smiling and biting her lip.

In a low and tender voice I asked, "No? Are you sure?"

"Yes, that was the perfect ending to a perfect day! Will Traynor waiting for me in my bed!" she cooed adorably.

"You are absolute perfection to me. Do you know that, Clark?"

"Will! Get out of my bed before … before I lose control of myself!"

"I think you've already done that several times today!" I sarcastically reminded her.

"Yeah I know," she confessed wincing. "I've never been like this before."

"Like what, Clark?" I teased again.

She gave me a playful smack to my arm being a good sport. "Oh you! Cruel to make me say it aloud!"

All I could do was laugh at her.

"Go! You're mum's waiting for you!" she chided me.

That she was. Mum was waiting.


	45. Chapter 45

**CHAPTER FORTY- FIVE **

Financier Banking certainly taught me a thing or two about dealing with opponents and negotiations. My mum sat behind my father's desk in a position of power, me in a chair opposite her which immediately put me in the hot seat. But I was used to sitting in the intimidation chair and still being in a position of strength and getting my way.

Always request more, then let the other party negotiate down to what you really wanted all along. Sure, a negotiation is essentially a compromise. None of the parties should expect to get exactly what they want 100 % of the time, but it was a delicate balance of weighing who was more desperate, who had more to lose, and who was willing to patiently play the long game and walk if need be.

That's how I was playing it this evening with my mum – like I did a million times before with clients and potential buyers.

As I saw it, my mum had no bargaining chips. She simply wanted me to do as she wished regardless of my needs or wants. On the other hand, I wanted her at best to stay out of my affairs and at the very least be pleasant to Louisa. I knew that although my mum would never be willing to stay 100% out of my business that she could never walk away from me even if I didn't do what she wanted. As for me, I was willing to walk away to pursue my relationship with Louisa, and so I knew arriving back at Granta House I held all the power.

I sat relaxed in my chair like a shrewd businessman. My mum, despite framing magazine articles about my business and sports exploits – never saw me in action. Cool and detached, I intended to definitely keep Mum on her toes, seasoned magistrate or not. She would be the first to lose her cool, me ruffling her feathers, getting a rise out if her, then bringing her around to my way of thinking.

"So you _may_ have told Alicia where to find me in New York?" I repeated her calmly. "Care to explain?"

Smug and righteous, my mum opened her mouth then closed it and fell silent. I had the upper hand, and I had no intention of being guilted or succumbing to submission by way of a brutal tongue-lashing either.

"Well, I certainly didn't tell you I would be leaving the country let alone New York City, so I assume there is a spy in my midst at Lewins. Did you dupe him or her into blabbing my itinerary and whereabouts without their full knowledge or did you promise them something in return for information? That's the real question. So how did you do it?"

I waited for her reply. Nothing. Maybe I didn't know who at Lewins was involved – certainly not Gwen – but one of my scenarios was indeed spot on! Rupert would sell his soul to the devil. Idealistic Freddy, on the other hand, would be foolish enough to believe he was actually helping my mum. I would have to make my team somehow aware of not divulging whereabouts for safety concerns.

"Right. Well, I suspect Mary was your co-conspirator. Was she not?"

"Will," she began coldly.

"Ah, she finally speaks. "Go on, Mother! Justify this one."

"I was going to say I'm not apologizing for helping Alicia."

"Oh, that's fine because I have no intention of apologizing about Louisa."

"William!" she shouted, losing her patience first.

"So Mum, tell me. What exactly is it that you want?"

"I want you to stop being stubborn and stop this ridiculous thing with this silly village girl!

"No, on both accounts. And Louisa's not some silly village girl. Don't refer to her like that again."

"At least meet with Alicia. Hear her out," she pleaded. "Don't close the door on that relationship."

"I told you no." I firmly stated. "I've repeatedly reminded you to stay out of my affairs, and I meant it. Louisa is my girlfriend, whether you like that or not. And when I move into the renovated stables, you'll be seeing her a lot. I suggest you get used to that."

Mum was flabbergasted, and just as I predicted she lost her cool first. I was unflappable and emotionless, relentless to her pleas.

"Girlfriend? You cannot be serious?!"

"I am quite! Why is that so hard to believe?"

"What about Alicia?"

"What about her?" I nonchalantly asked. "It's over. I've moved on. I've already told both you and her this! Do you even _know_ what transpired in New York between me and Alicia?"

"I know you argued and took off."

"That's an over- simplification. Did she tell you I almost got hit by a motorbike while we were arguing on a NYC street?"

"No, she didn't," she flippantly replied.

"That's because, Mother, it didn't even phase her. Alicia is so self-centered that she didn't even notice. She cares only for one person – herself!"

"And this girl doesn't?! Don't be naïve, Will! She's attracted to your last name! You're her ticket out of that café."

"How can you know that?" I challenged her in a monotone voice. "You don't even know her."

"She's a waitress, Will!" she snapped back wildly. "What else could it be? Think! How well could you possibly know her after a month?!"

"I pursued _her_. She didn't even know who I was. Just Will from London visiting his parents. In fact, she turned me down flat when I first asked her out. It was all me, Mother. Not Louisa. And we talk daily when I'm in London."

My mum was outraged. She got up from behind my dad's desk and began to pace around frustrated and furious with me. I remained seated, stoic, playing the long game.

"I'm worried about you and all of these abrupt and out-of-character changes you're making in your life. Breaking up with Alicia. Leaving your job in London. Buying the Castle. It's not like you!"

"I've not made any of these changes on whim. I assure you of that."

"Then stop this madness. Alicia's come around to the idea of having children, Will! So see, there's no reason to be acting out anymore and carrying on with the waitress."

"Acting out? Carrying on?" I repeated her egregiously.

"Yes, you and Alicia can settle down and move into Granta House. You can raise my grandchildren here."

"Ah! So you've got it all figured out?"

"I do. Please trust me, Will. I will never steer you wrong."

My mum never listened – she always thought she knew best.

"I have other plans," I calmly stated. "And they don't include Alicia."

"Who do they include then? That girl?!"

"Yes, and she has a name, Mother. Louisa. I have no regard for Alicia or any other socialite you've tried to set me up with! I've asked you to stay out of my business, and I mean it, now more than ever. If I'm to be completely honest with you, I'm in love with Louisa."

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!"

"Believe it or not, Mother, I don't choose sexual partners on how they will affect yours of Dad's health!" I sarcastically quipped back. " It's the 21st Century – you like Alicia so much, why don't you have a relationship with her? You know people do that these days. Father has a 'friend,' why not you? You and Alicia would be perfect together! Might be a bit awkward considering you're my mum and she's my ex-girlfriend, but …."

My mum looked like she wanted to kill me.

"I'm not finding any of this funny! I won't allow this thing with this girl!"

"You have no choice, no say in the matter."

"She's not suitable for you!"

"Why? Because she works at a café?"

"Mark my words, William! She'll make a fool of you! Take you for what you're worth! Do you really expect me to sit back and watch you make such a mistake?"

Flustered. Impatient. Aggravated. My Mum had officially lost it.

"First, Louisa's not like that! She's a very proud person, and she doesn't want my money. She doesn't even like me buying her gifts. Secondly, I expect you to mind your own business and get to know her before you judge her. That's what I expect from you! Her mum has been lovely to me, very kind and welcoming in their home. I expect the same from you!"

Mum was stunned. "You've met her mother?"

"Her whole family! And they're warm, friendly and genuine just like she is! Very down-to-earth, good people!"

"Will, please!" she pleaded. "Why don't you take a few weeks off before you start work on the Castle. Go mountain climbing alone or with a few friends or take a trip to Paris. Go with Rupert. Get your head together. Start to think clearly again! I beg of you! If you would just step back, you would see things differently!"

"The way you see things, you mean? No, I've never thought more clearly in my life, and if I went away for a few weeks I would take Louisa with me."

"Jesus, Will! Do you know what you're giving up?"

"Stop being so dramatic, Mother!"

"Do you think Alicia's just going to wait for you to finally get your head together!"

"I don't want Alicia to wait around for me. She's free to do as she wishes with whomever she wishes. The truth is that when I'm in London or traveling for business, all I do is think about Louisa. And when I'm here in Stortford, I never want the day to end when I'm with her. Don't ruin this for me."

She looked at me belligerently.

"Stop hoping for something that's never going to happen. You would be remiss to continue interfering, and you might just end up losing me as a result," I warned her. "So I suggest you be nice to Louisa, even if you have to feign it. I'm not going to tell you a second time."

"You're being impossible, Will!" she cried slamming her hand on the mantle. "Putting this girl ahead of your own family! Look at what she's done to you already!"

"She's not done anything to me but make me happy. Don't you want me to be happy?"

"She's not right for you!"

"She is. Please stop shouting at me. I know this may be hard for you to understand, Mother, but people are not interchangeable! You can't just swap out Louisa for Alicia! And stop with the manipulations."

"I'm not trying to manipulate you, Will! I'm trying to get you to see reason! How ridiculous and immature you're acting!"

"Stealing my itinerary for NYC and giving it to my EX-GIRLFRIEND to assault me in my shower is not being manipulative or immature? Why don't you invest some of the energy you use to obsess over my love life into fixing your own relationship with Dad?"

"Don't talk about things you don't understand!"

"Yeah, I know! You're relationship with Dad is complex, I couldn't understand. I'm 31 years old, I think I understand. You entered a loveless marriage, you made a good match for yourself with a proper family with the right name and address, popped out a kid to play house with and for show, and had another one to save the marriage or shall I say lock everyone into playing their parts for years to come."

"You're out of line, Will!"

"Am I? It's the truth, isn't it? Is that really the type of life you want for me? A loveless marriage like you and Dad? That's what I would have with Alicia. And do you really want Louisa to feel the way you did around Dad's mother. What is it Grandmother used to say to you? 'My daughter-in-law with half of the beauty and brains of her sister!' You think I don't remember the insults as a child and seeing you upset. This thing with Louisa. You need to understand it's not a fling, and she's not going anywhere. When I'm with her, I always feel loved and cared for. I've never felt that way with _anyone_ in my whole life …"

Including my own family members.

My mum had no reply, no response. She knew it was a losing battle. Icy but calm, she collected herself, and leaving the study, she reminded me of my swollen lips. "I suggest you put more ice on your lips, Will. They look worse than before!"

"I don't need ice, Mum," I hollered loudly so she could hear me as she moved farther and farther away from the study.

**Dear Readers,**

**Chapter 46 will be dropping soon. Several pages have already been written, and I had hoped to finish and post it yesterday, but that sadly did not occur for many reasons far beyond my control. Please stay tuned, and as always, thanks for reading. **

**Miss Crimald**i


	46. Chapter 46

**CHAPTER FORTY-SIX**

We picked up right where we left off in her attic bedroom the evening before, and I had no intention of stopping unless she asked me to.

"Will, I thought you said you have a master's degree?" Louisa giggled uncontrollably, teasing me for my inept attempts at opening her bra. What was wrong with me? I felt like a teenage boy! I knew something wasn't right, my fingers feeling around her back, above and under the stretchy fabric, searching … searching unsuccessfully, being too fixated on ruthlessly kissing and nibbling on her neck.

"I do," I moaned answering her. I knew I was a tad too enthusiastic, and the possibility of leaving marks behind were a distinct possibility; however, she didn't seem to mind. She neither uttered a single word of opposition nor protested, so I continued on … just knowing we were entirely alone served as an impetus that propelled me on …

"It's a front closure!" she cackled, her laughter so loud it echoed in the night across the sprawling lawn of the interior of the Castle gateway.

I sat up straight momentarily and grinned sheepishly for my amateur faux pas.

"Well? Come on! Get on with it!" she cried.

"You're a pushy little thing tonight! Very demanding!" I laughed as I licked my lips teasing her back.

She sat there coy and playful and every bit as impatient as I accused her of being as she let out an exaggerated huff of frustration, to which I willingly and gleefully succumbed to her demands, my hands leading the charge up the front of her sweater first, my fingers agile and triumphant followed by my moist lips, concentrating diligently on my own enjoyment as much as hers.

I had to admit, I didn't think that after last night's ill-fated introduction to my mum that she would be able to put that aside to enjoy my last night in Stortford. But here we were under the old beech trees that surrounded the great lawn of the Castle and today strung with white Christmas lights by my very own hands to create a very romantic but impromptu date. An evening picnic. Blankets and pillows on loan from the many guest rooms at Granta House. A feast: chilled champagne, chocolate covered strawberries from the village chocolatier, and homemade chicken parmigiana I cooked and timed perfectly for our meetup. "Bring a change of play clothes with you to work," I texted before dawn. "And make sure you wear your watermelon lip gloss."

She met me at the gift shop where we took a shortcut to the Castle entranceway, meandering in and out through different passages, some with crumbling stones. I insisted on going first with her safely following behind. "Watch your step, Clark. It's an old castle and needs repair." The property was vast, a sprawling 2.5 miles in diameter. The hedge maze my first choice for a romantic date, how I memorized its paths as a child, but with its unkempt appearance thanks to my dad's lack of attention to the Castle's care and maintenance and its remote location, it was not ideal for a spur of the moment date.

Once we arrived at the courtyard, I insisted she close her eyes. "No peeking," I warned her. She smirked mischievously and nodded her head. "No, seriously. Promise?"

"I promise," she laughed through giggles.

"Can I really trust you, Clark? Don't ruin the surprise!"

"I promise! I do!" she exclaimed. "I won't ruin a thing."

When I was satisfied that she would keep her word, I led her the rest of the way by the hand to the site I took great care in setting up. I was proud of the day's efforts, something I threw together quickly with great thought but few resources. I wanted to be someplace with her where we could be alone yet feel uninhibited. No interruptions. No walk-ins. No embarrassing moments. No social mores to violate. No optics to keep. No hotel room with the suggestion I was there just to have sex or the pressure of it looming in the background. What we chose to do or not do was entirely up to us and only us. It was in one word – private. And even though I knew I didn't need to convince her to go out with me anymore, I wanted to show her how special she was to me, today and always.

It was a beautiful fall night, cool with a bit of a chill. I positioned her exactly so, and wrapping my arms around her waist, I held her from behind and cradled her. "Are you warm enough?" I asked as I kissed her cheek.

"I am now," she giggled, smiling.

"Ready?"

"Yes!"

"Ok, you can open your eyes now," I gently spoke into her ear.

She was overwhelmed at first, star struck by the twinkling lights in the trees and the clear evening sky above, a gourmet meal with her favorite bottle of bubbly on ice and a picnic blanket adorned with gift bags from my purchases in New York City. "But how did you ….?"

I began to laugh. "Do you like?"

"Just when I think you can't outdo yourself, Will Traynor …."

"I take that as a 'yes'?"

She stared up at me with wonderment. "I thought you said you were going to check on the status of the renovated stables today and work on Castle business! When … when did you have the time?"

"I always have time for you, Clark. Don't you know that by now?"

Beaming, Louisa swayed in my arms and smiled. "No one's ever .. ever done anything like this for me! You …! I just … I just love you!" She turned around and kissed me passionately, the taste of her watermelon lip gloss was like an aphrodisiac. I fought the desire to rush the evening, but I wanted to be with her, if the moment was right, when the moment was right, and I was prepared for anything tonight. I took extra care to make our last night together a special one before I traveled back to London to work, and I couldn't but hope for a repeat of Tenby. Were it not for me brining attention to the public setting I had no real idea of what may have naturally transpired between the two of us there. In hindsight I regretted that decision terribly so. It was sheer stupidity on my part. Perhaps I should have kept my mouth shut. If only I had do it all over again, I would her allowed her unfetterd and uninterrupted reign over me. And that's what I was committed to tonight, if I were ever so lucky for another chance.

"I made you dinner. In the insulated bag over there. Chicken parm and pasta! My best dish."

"You did?!"

"I did!"

"No basil I hope?"

"No basil," I smiled proudly.

"You remembered my allergy …," she gushed, her eyes glistening with tears.

"I remember everything you say and do, Clark! Go on, sit. Eat up before it gets cold! I just packaged it before I came to get you, so it's still nice and hot!"

"Ok," she happily and softly uttered before taking a seat on the picnic blanket. I served her, then sat next to her and eagerly waited for a response after her first bite.

"I'm no Josie Clark, but how is it?"

Her reaction was priceless. Her eyes opened wide in a pleasant surprise and a smile crept on her face as she blushed. "Is there anything you don't do well, Will? It's delicious!"

"I'm glad you like it," I whispered as I felt enormous satisfaction for a job well done. "I can't take credit for the chocolate covered strawberries though."

What soon followed was a devilish smile and an impish little giggle…one I had heard before, one that had told me that a naughty little thought had crossed her mind _yet _again. "Tell me what's going on in that head of yours, Clark."

"Welllllllll …. Katrina thinks you're …," she hesitated then continued. "That you're too perfect … that you must undoubtedly have something seriously wrong with you! You must have a major flaw! Oh, she says .. she says thank you by the way – for all the presents you bought Thomas in New York. He ripped right into them yesterday!"

"She and Thomas are quite welcome, and no one's perfect, Clark, including me. I have my faults and quirks like anyone else."

"Oh yeah, name one, huh?" she playfully prodded.

"I'm a neat freak. I like everything clean and everything in its place. And I have no patience for hoarding."

"Oh come on! That doesn't seem so bad … like a flaw to me!"

"I suppose being a neat freak and being overly organized can be quite annoying at times …"

"Ah, not buying it. Something else?"

"I'm not a forgiving man …"

"Ok, but some people deserve not to be forgiven!"

"True. Ok … well … I'm a bit of a dreamer, Clark." I professed thinking the time was right to tell her the truth. "I dreamed about you over a year ago and fell madly in love with you, and everywhere I went I looked for you until I found you sitting alone at the stadium."

"No, seriously, Will!" she snickered in disbelief. "See? Too perfect! Telling me the most romantic fairy tale any girl would die to hear about herself! Maybe … maybe your flaw is that you have sticky fingers. I'm guessing you didn't ask your mum for these things, did you? Did you steal them from Granta House?"

"Borrowed!" I laughed in defense of myself.

"Sure!" she mocked. "And you really must tone it down with all these presents. You spoil me too … too much! It's neither my birthday nor Christmas!"

"And I already agreed to that in Tenby, but I bought these all beforehand, so please indulge me this one last time. I like spoiling you. It makes me happy. Did you ever consider my big bad flaw is that I spoil you too much? Would that be so bad?"

"I guess not, but I don't have the means to spoil you. So it's not fair," she fretted.

"You spoil me in ways money could never."

"See?" she gloated. "You're perfect!"

I shook my head in response to her silliness and grinned taking in the sight of her. Her favorite leg warmers with black leggings, an oversized black sweater with fuchsia hearts underneath my fleece jacket. The way she pranced around in her little outfits got me every time. Today was no different, but for the shape of her sweater, loose and boxy and so, so inviting and accessible. She had no idea the temptation I felt. And the one thing I wanted most was to be lost inside her.

I took a deep breath and exhaled to ease my urges, and composing myself jested, "Now do you want to see what's in all these bags or not, Clark?"

"I do, she giggled excitedly as she finished her meal then reached over for the one bag I didn't want her to open first.

I quickly reacted grabbing for the sophisticated solid black Barneys New York bag with its gray block lettering before her hand even touched it. "No, not that one, Clark. Save that for last!"

"Ooooooo! The showstopper, hmmmmmmmmm?"

"Yes," I chuckled. "Very special!"

Louisa mischievously grinned at me, her eyes brimming with wildness. "How special is special?! ! " she wanted to know.

"VERY," I emphasized, "If you must know!"

"Let me open it now. Please?" she begged, then made a split decision to lunge forward and attempt to snatch it from my hand. She fell on top of me in defeat, my strength far superior to hers as I clutched it tightly. "Start with the others!" I victoriously boasted. "Go on. Open the red and white ones first. The Metropolitan Museum of Art ones!

"Ok," she reluctantly agreed as she woefully climbed off me. "Fancy," she commented on the appearance of the gift bag, easing comfortably next to it and taking its handles. "And heavy! What's in here?" she exclaimed.

"You'll see!" I gushed as I carefully observed every nuance of her body with great anticipation. I had high hopes to please her beyond expectation but more so to impress upon her that each and every gift was so personally selected to fit her likes. To me there was nothing that spoke to my sincerest interest level in her more than making the effort to know everything about her – her likes, dislikes, needs and wants – and to take each seriously. I had hoped to convey that. She may have been right to call me out on going overboard in spoiling her, but gift giving could go in one of two ways. Missing the mark and being impersonal and insulting vs. nailing it and making that person feel completely understood. I hoped for the latter, and seeing from her first few reactions, I believed I achieved my goal.

I had the best time watching Louisa preview all the books I purchased from the MET gift shop. "They're perfect! I love them!" she wept with tears of joy. From contemporary MET Gala photo collections to the histories of costume and design and fashion throughout the centuries she was enthralled with the multiple anthologies, her eyes widening with awe and creative admiration while flipping through each of the volumes. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she kept repeating over and over with each consecutive peck on the lips she bestowed on me in gratitude. Peering into the emptied MET bags, I softly but flirtatiously hinted that there might be something else in one of them. "I think you may have missed a little gold box if I'm not mistaken."

Louisa quickly dove right in and shrieked at the sight of the 1920s Art Deco marcasite hair comb. "Ooooooooo! Ooooooooo! Ooooooooo! So beautiful!" She promptly replaced the bobby pin that fastened her hair up on one side with her new comb. "How does it look?" she asked.

"It looks almost as gorgeous as you do!" I shamelessly replied.

"Will Traynor," she mocked, "You don't have to try so hard to get me to take advantage of you!"

"From your lips to God's ears," I whispered back to which she blushed. Oh how I wished, I prayed, I hoped that would be true again tonight.

From a silk pair of pajamas with red hearts to silly comfy socks with heart balloons and bees, she continued to be enjoy the onslaught of presents. However, she was truly touched by one in particular. "Oh lovely!" she cried at the simple white box affixed with a pink satin ribbon. Inside a pair of fuchsia and maroon striped legwarmers.

"Almost an identical match to yours, Clark. I noticed the hole in the side getting larger that you can't see anymore. I know how much you love them, so when you're ready to part with them and replace them … well, you have these now."

Louisa became choked up and fought back tears. "Will," she began, "This is simply one of the most thoughtful gifts _EVER_! Thank you!"

I leaned forward to kiss her softly and using my thumbs dried her cheeks. "Now for the showstopper," I cheekishly smirked.

"No! You didn't?! " she shrieked again holding up a pink babydoll with black lace trims.

"Yes," I proudly boasted. "I cut the spaghetti straps myself and made them into ties!"

"I can see that!" she said as she stared at the lingerie. "Oh, and pink and white stripe thigh highs! Ummmm," she gulped, "Very creative, Will, but I can't wear these."

"No, why not?" I asked disappointed.

"Well, you see," she joked, "I only agreed to wear black and yellow stripe ones. So these won't do!"

They won't do?"

"Positive."

I admitted I couldn't find black and yellow striped tights or thigh highs neither in London nor NYC despite my best efforts, then passed her the remaining wrapped article in the gift bag – the last of all her gifts, the best next thing to black and yellow striped bumblebee anything. "Perhaps you'll find these to be a suitable stand-in in the meantime!"

"No friggin way!" she burst out laughing, her face a mixture of shock, awe and delight. A pair of black heart-shaped dot silk thigh highs.

"Well?"

"Ok."

"Ok? Ok what, Clark?"

"Ok, I'll wear them," she shrugged.

And with that began our descent into madness that evening.


	47. Chapter 47

**CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN**

"Will, this is a shock to us all!" "I'm blindsided, Will! We all thought we'd be working for _you_ one day!" "Will, can't you reconsider?" "Sorry to see you go! Things wont be the same with the day-to- day operations around here!" "I never thought I'd see this day!" "I'll sorely miss you!" "Will, I've enjoyed working with you!" "I've learned so much from you!" "Good luck with the new business venture! May you be just as successful!" "Don't be a stranger!" "Glad to see you're staying on in some capacity! Your talent should not be wasted!" "Good for you, old boy! Congrats on getting out of the rat race!"

And the accolades, well wishes and even sadness continued long after management announced my leaving my post just before noon the next morning. I was back in London, dressed in one of my power suits, in the company's headquarters where I had made a name for myself as a whiz kid, the one to watch go the distance to the top! The day was surreal. I was physically present but mentally elsewhere. Sure, I felt every handshake, every pat on the back. I heard every comment, every compliment, every warm wish. I even smiled and reacted appropriately to each and every one of them. "Thank you, you're so kind." "It was time for a change." "I'm not completely leaving the company, but I appreciate the kind words." And yet my mind was on _her_.

Last night I got to make love to my girlfriend on the Great Lawn of the Castle. Correction. My girlfriend made love _to_ _me_ on the Great Lawn of Stortford Castle. Not once. But twice. Swaddled in stolen blankets from Granta House, under the bright lights that hung from the beech trees. "Promise we'll do this again soon, Will? No, I mean like _soon_. _Very_ _soon_," she explicitly requested as we sat upright, she on top of me clutching my body against hers as she rested her head on my shoulder. Her long hair wet with perspiration, our skin moist and clammy, both of us breathless. And as if she hadn't had her fill of me, she continued to kiss me deeply, even softly singing the chorus to her favorite little tune, Never Gonna Let You Go, from her perch where she remained until she was ready to part with me. A merciful angel she had been, putting me out of my misery, releasing me from my deep pent up desires I harbored for her long before we came face to face. How was it that I was so worthy of her? Or was I? I thought about what she said – I had to have a great flaw. "I've been with too many women, Clark, and all the wrong women," I told her. "Until now." Of course she mocked me, teasing me that even my confession was "still too perfect," her giggles echoing in the night. "Then maybe my flaw is that I'm too perfect as logic would have it," I gently suggested as she humored me, grinning back. "Yes, that must be it," she whispered as she fiddled with my hair. "That really must be it."

The events of the evening were inevitable. From the moment she agreed to wear the heart embossed stockings, there was no turning back. Our witty banter was like foreplay, and neither one of us held back. We inched closer and closer with each barb exchanged.

"That's what I thought you'd say, Clark." I knew she could never turn down a chance to wear a heart. "I bought you extras just in case."

"Backups?" she playfully teased.

"Yes, backups."

"So you must seem to think we'll be getting _a_ _lot_ … I mean … _a_ _lot_ of use out of them?"

"That was the idea, Clark. Yes. You should always plan ahead. Rips, tears, holes. Wear from general use, unplanned situational accidents, you know times when impatience is high, inhibitions low."

"You think of everything!" she giggled.

"Why? Are you impressed?"

"_Very_. Especially the practicality of it all – it saves you on airfare having to cross the pond again just to buy me a much needed replacement."

"Yes, well then you definitely get it!"

"I _do_! I _really_ do."

Once our lips met, thought escaped me. I soon found myself necking her for dear life, grabbing like an inexperienced teen at her bra to which she dearly chided me for, deservingly so I might add. With my faux pas corrected, the boxy sweater which I had adored for its accessibility began to hinder me, its weight constantly folding on my head, slipping lower and lower and getting in my way. "Clark, let me take your sweater off?"

"But it's cold, Will!" she shot back.

"I know, but it'll be ok. We'll put your fleece jacket on instead and use the zipper."

Louisa was hesitant, but I soon realized why and just how paranoid she was. "But are you sure we're alone?"

"We are."

"Positive?"

"Yes, why?"

"Sure your mum isn't going to shine a big old flashlight on us or jump out of the bushes? She scares the bejesus out of me!"

"YES!" I laughed.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Cause I am, Clark! My mum is no where near here! Please let me take your sweater off. It's in my way."

"Ok, only if you're sure though …"

"I am!" I definitively cried out laughing.

I got my way, unhindered and focused made all the difference in my exploits at hand.

"Will, please stay another day," she begged as she rested her hands on the back of my head.

I felt awful, it was the one thing I could not find a way around. "Oh Clark, I can't," I panted, breaking momentarily. "I've already given my work some ridiculous story about my dad needing extra paperwork signed. They've already pushed back the announcement that I'm leaving by a day. I can't ask again."

"Can't you say there's a problem with the property? Um … oh, I know …. what if you say there's a sink hole, and the whole hedge maze has sunk and been destroyed?"

"Oh God no, Clark! Don't even joke about that! Do you know how much repairing a sink hole would cost?"

"Sorry …" she apologetically sighed.

"It's ok," I murmured although I lost my bearings. I sat up to look her in the eye, and concerned I stroked her face. "What's this really about, Clark?"

Louisa paused briefly as if deciding whether to tell me something or not, the same quiet and disconcerting stare from the ride home from Tenby.

"I just …," she stammered, "I just want another day to get up my nerve to … my nerve to follow through is all."

I wanted to make love to her in the worst way, but not like this. "Louisa, no," I gently spoke using her given her. "Just let things happen naturally, ok?"

"No," she protested. "I don't think you quite understand, Will. I want to. That's the only thing I think about, the only think I want to do. I can barely keep my hands off of you."

I was a bit confused but knew enough to keep the dialogue open. "Ok, so what's the problem? Please explain it to me so I can understand."

"See … _ see _you _are _perfect …," she smiled through tears.

"Oh, not that again! I'm not perfect by any means. But go on. Please tell me what's on your mind."

It took her a moment to compose herself before admitting that she didn't really like sex, enjoy sex that is, at least not with Patrick is what she said, then cringed waiting for my reply.

Once a sarcastic arse, always a sarcastic arse. "What woman would enjoy sex with Running Man?!"

"No, I'm serious though."

"I know, poor joke, I'm sorry."

She nodded her head in agreement still looking distressed.

"So then what do you want to do? How can I make you most comfortable? Just tell me."

"OH MY GOD! YOU ARE PERFECT!"

I grinned, it was a losing battle to convince her otherwise. I ignored her comment and made her my offer. "Anything you want."

"Anything?" she reiterated, her eyes glowing like a demon as her raving mad woman face took hold.

"Yes, ANYTHING. Name it."

"Well …. I was thinking … maybe … maybe I can be in charge?"

"In charge how?" I suspiciously asked. "Am I going to need a safe word?"

"No, of course not," she giggled. It was so good to see her giggle again. "So I was thinking …,"

"Yes … go on …. So you were thinking what?" I laughed waiting for her request.

"I want to be … on top … I don't like … I don't like lying on my back."

"Ok."

"Ok?" she giggled excitedly.

"Yes, ok. It's definitely not the worst proclivity in the world!" I joked.

"No, seriously?"

"Yes, Louisa Clark. You can be on top if you so desire. In charge you call it."

She beamed then began stuttering. "Yeah, well … you might .. you might … um … you might have … have … um … to help …. me with… um … some … um … some of the … um log …logistics …"

"Anything you want," I laughed again.

"And we can stop any time I want … you know … if … if … if I want?

"YES, but I'm warning you, Clark, Camilla is my safe word!" I burst out laughing.

"Oh you! Such an arse!" she huffed smacking me. "Are you positive we're alone though?"

"This again? YES, 100% positive. It's private property, my property!"

"Ok, so … so, stop talking if you know what's good for you …," she devilishly smirked as she frantically set out undressing me, randomly flinging my clothes across the lawn.


	48. Chapter 48

**CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT**

You insufferable blowhard! Salivating at the chomps, and I've not even officially left yet – trying to be top dog around here with your little jabs and not so subtle insults. Always in competition with me, but never the victor. And almost … _almost_ as arrogant as Rupert and Allen Stonehouse. Sorry, the clients will always prefer me, you pompous idiot! They'll be requesting me long passed I've left my post and working as a consultant for Lewins. Just you wait and see. That I can promise you, "mate."

"I'm so sorry, Martin, can you repeat that? I'm not quite sure I heard you with all the noise." With people in and out still congratulating Felice and Freddy on their promotions, the conference room was all aflutter, clamoring with boisterous voices.

"What's the name of that sleepy little village you're_ retiring _to?"

Stortford," I smiled politely. "Condescending prick" is what I really wanted to say.

"Ah yes, well. Getting too old for all this, eh? Sure you're not going to be a wee bit bored running that little family castle of yours, Will? Settling for the quieter life?" he chuckled sardonically.

_My sleepy little village? My little family castle? Settling? _

Bloody smug and condescending arse! I certainly wasn't about to share my plans with him, but I had every intention of embarrassing and putting Martin in his place, making him feel small, uncomfortable, and brutally insignificant.

"I had _sex _on the lawn of _my little family castle _just last night. What were you up to?" I sarcastically inquired, my eyes open wide waiting for a reply but not getting one, Martin looking as shocked and as uncomfortable if not more so than I expected him to.

"Excuse me, Martin," Gwen walked up behind me, apologizing for interrupting us. "I'm so sorry, I need to steal Will. Something important has come up! It can't wait!" She took my arm and led me from the conference room back to my office, closing the door behind us. Gwendolyn Oates meant business.

"What is going on? What aren't you telling me?"

I was genuinely unaware of what she was referring to. "What are you talking about?"

"Seriously, you don't know? First, you disappeared asking me to take care of Pesto all weekend and Monday when you were due back in London Saturday evening! You disappeared off the map, and I only get three texts from you!"

"I thought you loved that dog?"

"I do, but that's not the point."

"Ok, so what is?"

"I had to deal with a hysterical girl all weekend!"

"Alicia?"

"Alicia? What?" she cried perplexed. "NO! Why would Alicia confide in _me_?"

"Long story … go on …,"

"Jeez, Will! Pay attention!" she corrected me in a stern, motherly tone.

"Sorry, my mind's elsewhere right now! So who are you talking about?"

"FELICE, that's who! WHO BY THE WAY IS THE TYPE OF GIRL WHO SHOULD HAVE BEEN WITH ALL ALONG! Professional. Attractive. Smart. Mature. Well-mannered. BALANCED UNLIKE ALICIA! She's liked you since she started working here! Asked me just last week if it were true that you broke up with Alicia, and I told her yes, you were single and finally available! She told me you two got on so well in Singapore that she was going to ask you out on the New York trip."

"Ask me out? More like proposition me several times!"

"And when the bloody hell did that ever bother Will Traynor before?"

Silence. I stood guilty. She knew something was up, that I had been keeping something … more like someone from her.

"Right, IT NEVER HAS! Felice tells me you said you had a serious girlfriend you're intending on proposing to at home. NEWS TO ME! I told her she must be mistaken, misunderstood you, first I'm hearing about any of this! I just figured you weren't interested for some unknown reason to me and fed her a line of malarkey. Then …. then there's Freddy! Good ole Freddy who confirms there is someone in your life! He tells me he caught you speaking with Emilia Clarke on Facetime several times in New York! No doubt about it! EMILIA FREAKING CLARKE!"

I snickered. Oh how Clark would love that! Being totally sarcastic, of course. Clark would absolutely hate it, even threaten to remove her eyebrows again!

"So you don't deny it then?"

"I have never met or spoken to or had any electronic communication with Emilia Clarke. But I do have intimate knowledge of one Miss Louisa Clark, no relation to Emilia although the two bear a striking similarity. Gwen, I found _her."_

"What?!" she exclaimed more confused than before.

"The girl from my dream. I found her."

"OHHHHHHHHH GOOD GOD, WILL! You've completely lost it! ARE YOU NUTS?"

"Mad is more like it! MAD… MADLY in love with her. I found her in Stortford of all places, sitting in the stadium alone while I was walking Pesto. She's amazing. She's like no one I've ever met. You would love her. You would really love you. You _will_ really love her."

"Is this what all this Castle Business is about?"

"Yes, I confess it is. Louisa … Louisa would never be able to handle a long distance relationship. It's too hard on her now."

"Why did you keep this girl ….,"

"Louisa," I interrupted.

"_Louisa_ a secret from me?"

"I knew you would tell me I was crazy, and I just wanted to keep her all to myself for as long as possible and not jinx it. Besides, she had a boyfriend she just broke up with."

"She had a boyfriend, Will? And you pursued her anyway?" she shouted.

"Yes! Yes, I did! He was a rubbish boyfriend at that. A prickly character in a tri suit. Running Man I called him. He was quite verbally abusive to her and demoralizing. I did her a favor in regards to that thing!"

"And does she know about these prophetic dreams of yours?"

"No, I'm conflicted about telling her. I go back and forth."

"Oh good Lord!"

"I've tried telling her, but she doesn't believe me. She thinks I'm joking."

"Oh God! Who would?! It sounds crazy! Bloody crazy!"

"I know. I know. I don't know what else to say, but I'm in love."

"So you were with this _Louisa_ all weekend?"

"I was!" I gushed. "It was amazing…"

"Oh God! You already had sex her! I don't want to know the details. That's between you and her!"

"I took her to her favorite seaside town of Tenby. One of the shop owners, Maribel, was kind enough to take our picture. Here. This is Louisa."

"Dear God, Will! The resemblance is uncanny! Of course Freddy thought it was Emilia Clarke! It's downright creepy, but … but she looks like a very sweet girl."

"That she is," I grinned. "And so much more."

"Can I make a suggestion?"

"Depends …."

"If you truly are that serious about this girl, and she is as wonderful as you say she is, then don't let her anywhere near that frightening mother of yours?"

"Too late! They've already met. My mum walked in on us in a compromising position at Granta House," I admitted, truly not proud of myself for the position I put Louisa in.

"Jesus, Will! You're not a teenage boy!"

"I know, it just sort of happened."

"I thought I raised you better than that!" she sarcastically mocked me.

"I thought I raised myself better than that!" I answered just as tongue-in- cheek.

"So what happened? Or do I already know?"

"It was all very innocent."

She stared at me, not buying me and the word innocent in the same sentence.

"It was!" I tried adamantly to defend myself. "But I had to do a lot of damage control afterwards! Louisa was rightfully mortified, my mum was particularly frightful."

"I bet!"

"We were there to retrieve old Buckley from the basement. Louisa is quite the seamstress. Here, let me show you." I brought up Louisa's online shop, and passed my phone to Gwen. "This is Bee & Honey, her Etsy shop. I encouraged her to sell her designs online and helped her set up this fetching little shop. Look at her beautiful Halloween costumes! Aren't they well-made and artistic?!"

Gwen began to scroll through Louisa's shop impressed with her work. "Maybe I'll buy my little grandson a Halloween costume. She really does do some nice work. Braeden would look really cute in the Greaser outfit! Very creative!"

I couldn't help but gush and brag. "Over 15 sales for now, and it's only been opened a few weeks. You know the woman who taught her to sew was a seamstress who worked on **My** **Fair** **Lady**?"

"Nice, so I assume she's going to try to restore Old Buckley?"

"Yes, as a Christmas present for Georgie!" I grinned devishly at the thought of my sister screaming in defeat! "Mummy! Will's awful! He still wont drop this vendetta!" Oh, how I looked forward to it!

"You're so bad, Will! That's my boy!" she smirked. "So what happened at Granta House with the Camilla-nator?

"You mean Grendel's mum?"

"You have your nickname for her! I have mine!"

"Louisa and I got a bit too playful is all. My fault really," I said clearing my throat. "And my mum walked in, very protective of her baby boy whom she wants to pimp to the wealthiest and most well-connected socialite or just marry me off to Alicia as it seems that's her plan at the moment! Mum won't give up on re-uniting me and Alicia it seems. And she especially freaked out when she discovered that Louisa works at the Buttered Bun, the café across the street from the Castle gift shop."

"She's a waitress, Will? Your mother must really LOVE that!"

"Oh she does ! And as I told my mum she sells her designs in town making dresses for special occasions and over at the next town's marketplace. And I've arranged for her to sell some of her originals at Kat's shop. Cosmetics bags and totes."

"Wait! Did I hear you right? You're ex- girlfriend who you were living with is selling your new girlfriend's designs?!"

"Yes, and they sell quite well. Everyone's happy with the arrangement so far, which reminds me – I have more with me from Stortford to drop off at Kat's later today. Come with? I'll treat you to dinner as a thank you for watching Pesto this weekend on our way back? What do you say?"

"Sold, but I want to hear all about this Louisa Clark in detail!"

That night was the first night in over a year I dreamed of her. I was back at the stadium, making my way around the track for the last time just like I had originally done, periodically looking back to make sure Clark had not disappeared, and that Running Man and his teammates were otherwise engaged. I made my way to where Louisa sat in the first row of the bleachers, engrossed in her paperback novel. I double-checked Running Man's whereabouts once last time before making a beeline for her. Just like real life, Patrick was thankfully still self-absorbed in his own training.

I positioned myself a few feet from her on the same row of the bleacher with Pesto in tow, then spoke to her. "Good book?" I asked. "You seem engrossed in it."

"What? I'm sorry?" She lifted her head from her novel startled.

"You seem quite taken with your book. It's refreshing. Most people are engrossed with their phones not books anymore."

She looked directly at me irritated by the interruption. "Excuse me?"

I repeated myself. "Most people are usually engrossed with their phones not books anymore. It's refreshing to see."

"I don't mean to be rude or anything," she started by half-heartedly apologizing, then concluded by shutting me down completely. "But I just want to sit quietly and catch up on my reading while I wait for my boyfriend." She pointed Running Man out to me on the track, adding, "He's the team captain over there."

"Oh, terribly sorry to bother you," I quietly uttered, feeling faint and whiplashed. I was in shock, stupefied and clueless as to the change in her. I went through all the emotions of being a rejected man, my heart sinking into an abyss of disillusionment, a gut- wrenching pain shooting through my body. I knew … I knew on some level that this was not how this scene played out.

I was jolted from my sleep and frantically checked my phone for any trace of Louisa Clark. There she was listed in my contacts, our text messages still intact, and the beautiful photo that Maribel had taken of the both of us in her Tenby shop stared back at me on my Iphone. I breathed a momentary sigh of relief before a strange feeling overtook me.

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong or about to go wrong, and I knew it with every fiber of my being.


	49. Chapter 49

**CHAPTER FORTY-NINE**

"I'm getting lucky tonight!?" Louisa breathlessly murmured grinning from ear to ear as she answered the door surprised by another unannounced visit from me.

"Is that a question or a statement?" I teased as I grinned back. She certainly was neither cold nor had she cooled towards me as my dream had suggested, but I had to be sure. I had to see her for myself in person, and I left work early anxious for that exact reason.

There was another reason why I had come, one of a more pressing nature. This morning I had been informed that I would be embarking on another business trip – this time a lengthy one to Australia for the duration of my time in London – and that would render it entirely impossible for me to visit Louisa again before I relocated permanently to Stortford in the next 2 weeks. At least this time I would be traveling alone to conduct my own extensive research including audits and interviews on 3 companies that I would be consulting on once home. The news, however, left a pit in my stomach. An inner voice told me not to go, but I knew that wasn't an option. The next best thing would be to convince Louisa to accompany me, regardless of how insane the idea sounded.

"Both," she answered in a soft giggle, then quietly stepped towards me, and standing high up on her toes she planted a passionate kiss on my lips. "Shhhhhhh," she warned me in my ear. "Thomas is still up. I just gave him his bath, and he's in the living room watching vintage cartoons. Granddad's already turned in, Treena's at school, and my parents went out for their 28th wedding anniversary for dinner and a movie. No one will be home until at least 10:30."

"And it's only 8:15."

"Yes," she repeated me, biting her lip. "It's only 8:15."

"And Thomas? When's his bedtime?"

"8:30," she mischievously smiled, "Right after Johnny Quest is over! He knows the drill!"

"That gives us a solid hour and a half alone at least."

"It does, it really does," she cooed. "It's like you read my mind tonight, Will Traynor. I was just thinking about … about the other night at the Castle and _how much I was dying to be with you again_ _… and now you're here!"_

I was shameless. Utterly shameless. And so in love with her. "We can do anything you want again, Clark!"

"I was planning on doing what I wanted anyway, Will!" she raucously giggled. _"_I … I will need you to be PG for at least another 15 minutes though. Can you do that for me?_" _

"I can. I can indeed."

She kissed me passionately one last time before I followed her into the Clark home, and although I agreed to mind my manners for the next few minutes, my mind was a whole other matter. Filthy thoughts filled my head. Already dressed for bed, she wore the satin pajama top of the set I bought her in NYC as a sleep shirt with a pair of heart balloon patterned cozy socks, also a gift from me. I knew I could not, would not be able to make it without her for the next 2 weeks. I needed her with me, and I needed her in my bed. And right this minute I needed to run my hands up her sleep shirt but knew I couldn't. I had to be on my best behavior, and I was.

Seeing her interact with her nephew blew me away. The warmth between them, the gentle way she cuddled him, the motherly way she rested her head atop his. Without her knowledge I had insisted an extension be put on to the existing structure of the stables. No, not guest rooms. Not an office or a home gym. Bedrooms. Bedrooms to fill up with children, our children, the same 2 daughters from my dreams if I were so lucky, and more if Louisa was so inclined. She must have read my thoughts, because she looked over at me and blushed a deep shade of crimson as I stared mesmerized by her familial interaction.

I soon discovered that chattiness was neither unique to Louisa nor Josie. It far penetrated the Clark family, passed down from generation to generation it seemed. Thomas the youngest member to be so afflicted. I thought about how Charley and Willow, who in my dreams snuggled close to me in bed or on my lap in my wheelchair as I read them books in character, watched movies and TV together or played games of chess and Candy Crush, exhibited the same exuberance, starry-eyed wonderment, inquisitiveness and chattiness as one Thomas Clark. The similarities were endless.

Upon our official introduction, Louisa laughed in response to his quietness. "It's just that you're new and unfamiliar to him," she explained. "He's shy at first, but once you start him up you can't shut him up." How right she was! The icebreaker came the moment Louisa told Thomas I had a dog named Pesto. He wanted to know all about him and was captivated by my photos chronicling him from puppy to adult. "When can I meet him? Can I walk him? Can I play with him?" I learned what Thomas wanted most was a puppy. He wanted one last Christmas; however, Santa Claus left him a stuffed animal instead, and this caused him to question the existence of Santa and his intelligence level, if real. (I'm paraphrasing, of course.) His crisis caused quite the stir at his nursery school as he questioned the legitimacy of Old Saint Nick. And the mere suggestion that Santa may not exist to the other children landed him in hot water, his mum called in to conference by teachers and administrators. "What do you think, Will? Do you think Santa is real or just stupid? " I looked to Louisa for help, who offered me none. She was too busy laughing as I squirmed for an answer. "I think we shouldn't question Santa's actions. He must have his reasons," I feigned emphatic belief. Thomas shook his head like a miniature adult, then chimed in that his mum had told him that Santa must have known a real dog would upset Great-Grandad, hence the stuffed dog. "Your mum must be right," I agreed. Existential chitchat with a precocious 5 year old. It was a first for me, but I enjoyed his company.

And there was more. Go figure, we had a lot in common, he and I. We rooted for the same football teams. (He had the same taste in football clubs as his granddad naturally.) We both loved Johnny Quest and Speed Racer, my own childhood favorites. And most recently, he had seen the original Star Wars Trilogy for the first time and had become as obsessed as I had been with the films as a kid myself. In fact, he told me that he intended to be a pirate for Halloween but then changed his mind after Auntie Lou bought him a light saber. "A Jedi Knight! That's what I'm going to be!" Auntie Lou was apparently making his costume. "Then I'm sure you'll definitely be the best dressed kid in your class," I added, complimenting Louisa who yet again blushed.

Louisa was right. Once you started Thomas up, he never shut up. And I didn't mind, I actually got a kick out of him. Lively and intelligent, he certainly came to life once he became comfortable around me. I soon got the distinct feeling though that he was often lonely like I had been as a child despite Louisa being a second mum to him.

"Do you like to play football, Will? No one ever wants to play football with me. Grandad's usually too busy, and Patrick … Patrick won't play either. He usually just yells at me."

"Patrick yelled at you?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "He's mean."

Louisa winced then cuddled Thomas tightly. I could tell she felt responsible for exposing her nephew to him for any length of time.

My heart broke hearing about this. Yelled at by Running Man! What a bastard! He's a kid, he wants to play! That's what kids do! Patrick was a bigger arse than I had even imagined!

"Patrick's a big bully! Who needs him anyway?! Listen, Thomas, I'll make you a deal. I'll play football with you if you promise to help me put together some of my Star Wars Lego kits." I knew Louisa and her family couldn't afford the model kits, but I was about to steal Thomas's Auntie Lou from him and wouldn't it be nice if he gained an Uncle Will?

"Really?!"

"Really."

"Do you have a light saber too?" Thomas cleverly inquired.

"I do," I lied, easily remedied by Amazon or a quick trip to a toy store. "So what do you say?"

"Only … only if you play light sabers with me too." I liked this kid – he had the beginnings of a savvy businessman!

"Thomas Clark, you're a shrewd dealmaker, and I accept your terms. Should we shake on it?"

Thomas nodded his head in agreement and shook my extended hand as Louisa watched. Tears welled up in her eyes as she smiled at me and mouthed "THANK YOU."

"I'm happy to," I mouthed back.

Thomas reluctantly agreed to finally go to bed some 20 minutes well passed his bedtime, but not after begging to stay up just a few minutes more to which Louisa caved in to more than once. The last time she meant it. "Time to brush your teeth. Don't look at me like that, Thomas Bernard Clark. Upstairs now! I'll be up in a minute to help you and tuck you in!"

Once Thomas was upstairs, Louisa stood up and quickly turned to me with specific directions. "And you! Upstairs to my attic. We have less time than I thought! Go. I'll meet you in a few minutes. No time to waste!"


	50. Chapter 50

**CHAPTER FIFTY **

"You drove all this way to Stortford because you had a bad dream about me and needed to crawl into my bed?!" she squealed with delight, breaking into a devilish smile.

I grinned embarassed. "I did, ok? Are you happy now?"

"Happy? More like completely satisfied, Mr. Traynor! Nothing's better than a sexy man in your bed, no matter the reason why!"

Louisa Clark was a complete enigma to me. Her effervescent smile as she beamed. Her bubbling and cheerful personality. Her sweetness and naivety. Her insistence that she didn't enjoy sex, and yet here she was seductive, both sensual and saucy in bed. It was the third time we made love this week, this time in her bed behind a locked attic door. She lay on her stomach next to me holding herself up on her elbows with the bedsheet just barely covering her lower back, her heels kicked up in the air as she basked in another very spirited performance on top, all the while playfully mocking me for tonight's apparent "booty call". "I call them as I see them!" she gleefully announced. How was it that with all the experience I had – my reputation, my sexual exploits – that this petite dark-haired sweetheart could be make me blush so? The power she had over me she didn't even know.

I revealed to Louisa that she had completely rejected me in my dream, that I was jolted from my sleep the night prior, listless and paranoid that she had changed her mind about me, and of the bad feeling I just couldn't shake.

"Well, I don't know how to convince you otherwise after tonight," she breathlessly whispered in a sexy voice as she very, very gently planted feather-light kisses up and down my chest as I breathed deeply in and out.

I had come to see for myself, and see for myself I did. But I wanted one last assurance as if our lovemaking hadn't been all the proof I needed. "Are you sure everything's ok, Clark?" I asked one more time.

"Yes! I don't know what else to tell you, Will, except you were _amazing_ tonight! The way you … the way you grabbed my hips … and moved me … at all kinds of different … well, you know what you did …, "she boasted, grinning from ear to ear. I felt my skin tingle, my blood pressure rise, and the crimson set permanently into my cheeks. No other person had ever had such an effect on me.

And if I thought I couldn't turn a darker shade of crimson, I was sadly mistaken. Somehow Louisa managed that as well, when amused by the memory of and beside herself in a fit of giggles as a result, she finally brought _it _up.

"Will, do you remember during … _our_ _collaboration_ together… when you uh …. umm … I can't believe I'm saying this … when you suddenly clutched me forward … and exclaimed `Swamp Thing' like a lightbulb just went off in your head?"

Flustered, I could not make eye contact with her and looked away.

"Hmm?" she taunted me. "Do you?"

"I do," I murmured lamentably. "Regretful is the word that comes to mind."

"Aww! You thought you were so clever, but you guessed wrong again!" she sang out. "That's not the movie!"

"So you've already said," I uttered, self-conscious and ripe with contrition. I wondered how I would ever live that down.

She certainly knew how to make me blush, because she did it almost immediately soon after, this time with the emphasis she placed on two little words. "I still can't believe how _coordinated _and … _robust _you are! I've never …. I've never … well you know that!" she smirked as her voice trailed off.

"Thank you, Clark," was all I managed to say as I pursed my lips trying to regain some semblance of my dignity back, still ashamed of the Swamp Thing shout out.

"Tongue-tied?" she giggled.

"Yes," I sheepishly smiled, admitting to her hold over me. Only Louisa Clark, I told myself. Only Louisa Clark.

The evening began just as memorable. From the minute her attic door opened and Louisa stepped through, we were all over one another, the frenzy with which we kissed, the frenzy with which we undressed one another. In between kisses, she apologized profusely for the delay. "Thomas," she said, never skipping a beat with the task at hand, "Kept talking about you. Will this, and Will that! I think … I think you might just be his new best friend." "Well, he's definitely an improvement over Rupert," I quipped as we continued to grab at each other. The last thing I remembered before falling into bed with her was a low whisper. "Now that Thomas has been put to bed, it's time to tuck you in."

Maybe this dream I had was just a dream, or so a part of me hoped. The events of the evening certainly proved my fears unfounded and calmed the anxiety with which I had endured privately the last 24 hours. I propped myself up and faced her, mesmerized by her glowing appearance, her playful personality, and bowled over by how sexy she looked naked in bed.

She began to chatter on endlessly about random things. Sweet and loving, flirty and coy, funny and emotional – she was animated, and I couldn't take my eyes off her. Biting my lip as she spoke, I hung on her every word, commenting with a witty remark here and there, delicately kissing her as I worked up the nerve to ask her to Australia.

"It means so much to me that you were so kind to Thomas earlier. His dad's an American from California who was studying abroad here and wants nothing to do with him. And my dad's not a young man anymore either. It's hard for him to go running around after a boy Thomas's age. Don't ever tell Treena this, but I think of him as my own, and I can't thank you enough for making that little boy's day …

You know everyone's heard about you purchasing the Castle and your plans! The whole village is talking! They're so excited jobs and tourists will be returning to Stortford! Relief, they keep saying. They need relief. People can't wait to see what you're going to do …

Do you remember Nina and Cherie? They're our resident hairdressers. They both say they met you at the café one weekend last month. Ah, they think _you're_ _gorgeous and smell sooooooo good_! But the things they don't say! Filthy! Those 2 old birds would make a sailor blush! 'Oh Lou,' they gush. 'Wait 'til you set your eyes on him! You'll understand!' I just smile politely and let them talk, but only I know what it's like … what it's like to be with Will Traynor …

You know there are two competing rumors going around Stortford about you? I've heard both discussed at nauseam at the café, you understand! Will Traynor – Stortford's Most Eligible Bachelor? Or, off the market, taken by the tall, mysterious leggy blonde seen walking the Castle grounds?"

"You know that's my architect, right Clark?" I laughed, sarcastically questioning why there weren't any new signs at the library to get excitable about instead these days!

I was pleased that she appreciated my efforts befriending Thomas and comforted to know that I had the support of the villagers with my vision for the Castle and of a flourishing Stortford, but it was time to bring up Australia. I just needed to bite the bullet and do it.

"Clark, do you remember telling me that you were supposed to visit Australia once but never did?"

"Mmmmhmmmm. Why?"

"Well, how would you like to go to Australia with me?"

"What? When?" she cried incredulously.

"Tomorrow," I answered eagerly hoping she would scream yes!

"What?" she answered, looking bewildered and perplexed, sitting up in her bed on her knees, clutching her sheet to cover her chest.

"Ok, before you answer," I begged, "Just hear me out. I'm going to Australia for the next 2 weeks for work, and …"

"Wait! What? 2 weeks?! How long have you known?"

"Only since yesterday."

"You're leaving again? No!"

"Shhhh, Clark. Please, just listen to me first. I'm going to Australia alone to meet with 3 companies I'll be consulting on once I'm back home. One is going public, the other 2 are merging. Come with me. I'll cover all your expenses. I'll be working during the days, but we can explore Sydney in the evenings and on weekends – just you and me like in Tenby – and make love every night. What do you say?"

I wanted her to say yes. I wanted her to jump up and throw herself onto me. I wanted her to rush out of her bed and start packing her suitcases this instant. But her body language told me differently. Her shoulders rounded, her body collapsed low in her upright position. Her chin dipped to her chest as her eyes darted around the room with a pained look on her face.

I knew what was coming.

"No. I'm sorry, Will. I can't. I don't get paid holiday at the café. And my family really needs the money. I can't just leave. I'm sorry."

"Ok, so what if I," I began …

Her eyes flew wide open at the mere suggestion. "Don't say it! I don't want your money! And I promised Treena I'd watch Thomas to get her through her midterms. I can't!"

I wanted to kick myself. Where was my head? Suggesting something like that. I tried to best articulate my remorsefulness for being so insensitive and for stupidly suggesting to cover her wages. "I'm sorry, Clark. I didn't mean to suggest … I can be a real arse sometimes."

"Yes. Yes, you can be," she agreed as she sat disappointed with tears in her eyes.

Louisa wanted only one thing from me that night – a promise there would be no more business trips once I came home this next time!

"Last and final one, I promise."

"Better be!" she sulked.

And although my time in Australia went as planned without a hitch, I couldn't deny the impending doom I felt yet couldn't explain in week 2 of my trip. That is until all communication with Louisa abruptly and inexplicably halted, complete silence so chilling that it left me in a frantic panic, fearing the worst had come true when I was unable to reach her and made even worse when my barrage of voicemails and text messages time and time again remained unanswered. "Louisa, is everything ok?" "Louisa, please text me back." "Louisa, it's not like you to not answer back." "Louisa, I haven't spoken or heard from you in days. Are you ok?" "Louisa, just text me back to let me know you're ok." "Louisa, are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?" "Louisa, your boss at the Buttered Bun said you suddenly took violently ill one morning and have been calling out sick. Are you ok?" "Louisa, did Frank tell you I've been calling asking for you and to text me back? I'm really worried. He says you never get sick." "Louisa?"


	51. Chapter 51

**CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE**

LOU

If my friend Nathan hadn't stopped by the café in between visiting patients the morning Mrs. Traynor came to see me, I would have no idea how I'd have gotten home that day. I was queasy and lightheaded, shaking and crying uncontrollably, my world shattered, the hard truth revealed. I was living a lie for the past 7 weeks. Everything about Will was just an illusion. "Lou, you don't look so good. Everything ok?" Nathan asked. Thankfully, he noticed the signs and managed to hurridly usher me to the bathroom just in the nick of time as the vomiting began. A quick onceover and a few questions later, Nathan diagnosed me. "No guy's worth this, Lou," Nathan compassionately advised me. This one was, I kept thinking. This one was.

I had fallen fast and hard for Will Traynor. Now it was too late.

Two days had gone by, and I was in no way feeling better. The initial shock may have worn off, the vomiting may have finally subsided, and my hysterical crying may have morphed into frequent sobbing outbursts, but I was still as inconsolable as I had been since first learning the truth. Despite small improvements, I remained feeling sick to my stomach, and going without any food and barely having anything to drink didn't help matters any. What ailed me there was no cure for but time or so they say. I didn't know how I would ever get over him.

My head throbbed, my eyes red and swollen, and my heart shattered. The feelings of being deceived were still so new, felt so raw. I was in bad shape, gutted for the second time in my life, feeling like a shell of the person I was, and mourning myself like I was dead but still alive. I wondered if I even had the strength to pull myself together again. It was entirely a miracle I did the first time, but a second? I wasn't quite sure that was entirely possible.

Gullible and trusting. That was me. Louisa Clark. Did I learn nothing from the hedge maze? I had trusted the wrong group of friends from school who abandoned me and left me alone with a strange group of boys in an impaired state, the same group of strange boys whom I had proceeded to drink and get high with to impress and who then took advantage of me as I passed out. And now I had put complete trust in some guy I hardly knew and allowed myself to foolishly fall in love with him and dream of a fairy tale life together. Was I that desperate for attention that I didn't think things through? How stupid was I? Did I really think Will Traynor wouldn't have a girlfriend?

I hadn't lay in bed this lifeless and this numb since, since the days and weeks following the hedge maze. I had been so obnoxious, so snotty to her that evening. "I'll be back sometime after I'm thirty!" I told her, thinking it sounded funny and cool while blowing her off. And yet, she was the one who came looking for me in the dark, who found me silent and shivering in the grass, who took care of me, and who kept my secret all these years. And here Treena was again, my sister and my best friend, looking after me just when I needed her the most, as if she were the older sister sheltering the younger and much more fragile one.

"Are you feeling any better?" Treena asked gently as I stared off across my bedroom, looking at nothing in particular. She took a seat next to me and tenderly rubbed my back as if it were possible to soothe a heartache.

"No," I choked out.

She lay down next to me, extending her arm high across the pillows. "Come here," Treena insisted. "Come on." I rolled over to snuggle with her and rested my weary head under her chin. Treena was a much different person than I. Strong, independent, and intelligent. She had skipped a grade in school and graduated top in her class with honors and a scholarship. Nothing got by Katrina Clark and no one tried to get anything over on her either. Almost nothing and no one, that is. There was the matter of Thomas's conception. With that one exception she was flawless. People wouldn't dream to say the things they've said to my face to hers. She was the sister to reckon with. Not me. Sweet, nice, generous, and kind. I was a pushover or so Patrick used to tell me when he was in life coach mode. "If you're too nice to everyone, Lou, people will walk all over you." That ironically included him, of course. Add Will to that list now too.

"I'll be leaving soon for class. Can I get you anything to eat beforehand?"

"No."

"Lou, you gotta eat something. You've not had anything in over 2 days. Nathan came around to check up on you earlier while you were sleeping. He told me to make sure to get something in your stomach. Toast maybe? A few crackers?"

"No. I'll probably just throw up anyway," I argued back through tears, the mere memory of that gorgeous, tall slim figure with perfect model hair smiling and calling Mrs. Traynor "Mum" as she dangled her car keys from the café door gave me the dry heaves alone. "I can't even think of eating right now, Treen."

My iPhone began to ping – another incoming text message from Will. Treena picked up my mobile and read it to me aloud. "Louisa, please tell me what's wrong?"

She shook her head in disbelief. "Is this guy serious? Well, if you're not going to tell him off, Lou, I will! Philandering cheat and liar!"

"No, don't." I immediately forbid her from taking matters into her own hands. "I'm not going to get into an argument with him, so he can just peddle more lies."

"Then why not just turn your phone off? Or better yet block him if you're not going to tell him to sod off for good? Why put yourself through this every time he texts or calls? What is he up to? Text 22 by now?"

She knew me well enough to know exactly why. "Because you're still hoping this is all some kind of terrible mistake, aren't you?"

"Mmmhmmm," I nodded ashamed, looking down.

"You know it's not. You're going to have to start dealing with this and getting out of bed soon."

"I know, I just can't yet."

"Well, you're not the first to find out you're the other woman, Lou!"

"Just when I thought that you were being sympathetic!" I emphatically hissed at her.

I hated when she was right, but right now my fuse was short and I regrettably snapped at all. I knew she was right about everything she said, but I was so despondent I couldn't deal with anything and didn't want to. I just didn't want to hear it. I only wanted to linger in my bed and wallow in my misery – privately, like I did after the hedge maze.

"You've missed 3 days of work already! Mum and Dad really need the money, and I can't get any more shifts at the flower shop, not with school."

"I know! You don't need to keep telling me. I already know!" I blasted her totally aware she only had my interests at heart.

"I'm just trying to help."

"I know you are. I can't believe I was that stupid, Treen. He's not who I thought he was! And, I slept with him! Not once but THREE times!"

"You little wench! I warned you."

"Stop it, I already feel like the biggest fool in the world. Patrick even warned me about Will, but I wouldn't listen."

"Patrick's an arse!"

"Yeah, but I _really_ thought Will loved me!"

"I told you he was too perfect!"

"Now's not exactly the time to say I told you so!"

"Never is! See I was right! And now we know what's wrong with that bloody bastard! Philandering cheat! Like all men, they think they can have their cake and eat it too! I hope you used protection!"

"YES!" I shouted at Treena, wishing for her to just shut up and go away already.

"Good, because Mum and Dad can't afford for us both to be unwed mothers!" she jested half-jokingly.

"Nice one, Treen!"

"Well, I had to ask!"

"I thought … I thought he was the one!"

"No such thing exists! There's only Mr. Right for right now."

"Quite the romantic!"

"Pop out a Thomas, and you'll be seeing things much clearer too! Mum keeps asking me what's wrong with you. If you have the flu or something. She deserves to know what he did! He snowed her too! And to think he wanted to play with my son!"

"No! Don't tell mum! Don't tell her anything!"

"She wants to know why you're up here sobbing your eyes out and vomiting every 20 minutes for the past 2 days!"

"Just tell her Will and I broke up and you don't know why."

"She's smarter than you give her credit for! She's not going to believe that!"

"I don't care, just do it! I don't want her knowing how stupid I was for trusting him."

"Ok, fine. I'll play dumb for now, but you better think up a good reason to tell her. Listen, I left your credit card bill on your dresser. Don't forget to pay it. And, you also got something from a Michael Lawler Associates L.P.?"

"Huh?" I shrugged just as perplexed as she was. "Open it if you want. I have no idea."

I watched Treena walk across the room and tear into the envelope, reviewing the contents inside carefully.

"Well? What is it?"

"It appears to be some sort of dividend statement."

"A what?"

"You daft girl! A dividend. Money a stock yields on a quarterly or monthly basis. Care to tell me how you own bloody stock with a monthly dividend? This is an investment report in your name, Lou."

"Oh, um …. I forgot about that. Will set the whole thing up for me with a friend of his using the all the money I earn from my sales at La Bise in London. I didn't realize I get a … what did you call it again?"

"A monthly dividend "

"Yes, what you said."

"This is more than what you make at the Buttered Bun in a month!"

"What?! Let me see that?"

I grabbed the statement from Treena's hand to see for myself. "Oh my!" I cried.

"Yes, 'oh my' is right! So your two timing "_boyfriend_" set this up for you?"

"Yeah, I guess so. What's the difference? Money in an account vs. money left on the bureau of a nightstand for services rendered?"

Treena stood gawking at me.

"What? What is it?"

"Something's not right," she finally stated hesitantly. "Why would he two time you and set this up? Who would do that? It doesn't make any sense. Are you sure …. ?"

"YES," I barked at her, loosing my patience. "I've already told you! I saw Alicia with my own eyes! He HAS a girlfriend, Treen! A gorgeous statuesque one." I sighed.

"Yeah, but ….,"

"NO! Mrs. Traynor said they're moving in together, and she's buying property here as well. A spa. I overheard them talking about it on their way out."

"It's just odd. Don't you think? To go through all the trouble of setting this up for you while he has a girlfriend? I'm just saying, Lou … who does that?"

"Apparently, Will Traynor does. That's who!"

"Maybe it might be worth looking into it?"

"No," I shouted. "The last thing I need is to get my hopes up. I saw for myself. Just leave it alone."

"Fine," Treena warned as she reached the attic door. "But you better not do anything drastic while I'm away at school tonight!"

"Drastic? Like what?" I bellowed, wondering what the bloody hell she was referring to now!

"Like chop off all your hair like last time!"

_**I'll let Camilla & Alicia tell you what happened in the café! Hope you are all enjoying! **_


	52. Chapter 52

**CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO**

CAMILLA

"You were brilliant! Bloody brilliant, Camilla!" Alicia cooed, snickering in glee.

Oh, how I loved Alicia! I could imagine Will's life at Granta House with her, a stunning and dapper couple, like the Golden Age of the Roaring 20s. Black tie events on the grounds again, dancing all night to a big band, the couple to breath new life into the old ballroom with black and white checkered marble floor and crystal chandeliers, young and gorgeous, the envy of all. Flaxen haired children roaming the secret passageways in their youth, with their wicked Traynor sense of humor and superior intelligence chiding their dull nannies running amuck after them, then off to the finest of boarding schools in their starched and neat uniforms, and graduations from the most elite universities England has. Cultured and well-educated and traveled, sons to carry on the Traynor name, daughters to rival their father's business prowess, offspring to follow in our family's footsteps in business and law, perhaps another magistrate like myself or yet creating an even more impressive legacy with a member of Parliament. In one word. Proud.

I could hear it now. "What an elegant couple!" "What fine looking grandchildren!" "You did well, Camilla! A splendid match!" Two pedigreed families – old money and military coming together. I could just see the engagement party, by candlelight and champagne, a who's who of society – a precursor for the main event of the season in the gardens of Granta House. And the elegant wedding invitations on classic parchment with chantilly lace and my name, the Honorable Camilla Traynor engraved, the wedding album documenting the poignant intimate moments of the bride and groom and wedding party from the dress rehearsal and dinner through the stage of getting ready to the ceremony itself, official photographs and formal reception. I could see the exquisite pictures in my mind's eye. Alicia in an stylish and graceful mermaid lace wedding gown standing next to Will in his black tuxedo and cummerbund looking dashing and handsome as ever with Rupert as his best man looking on as the bride and groom take their vows. My beautiful Georgina in the wedding party, the second most gorgeous woman in the room with her choice of most eligible and available of gentleman suitors. The elaborate and elegant church ceremony officiated by my cousin, the Reverend John Crawley, the exquisite flowers, cuisine and cake afterwards on our private grounds under the stars.

"A bloody, bloody brilliant performance, '_Mum,'" _Alicia winked at me then grinned at Mary Rawlinson, her godmother and one of my oldest and dearest friends. The three of us sat in the formal dining room of Granta House enjoying a 5 course meal with an expensive bottle of Pinot Grigio and celebrating a most successful week – the _permanent _expulsion of Louisa Clark from Will's life and the selection of a prime location for Alicia and Mary's new business venture – a luxury spa to complement the future patrons of Will's establishment – at a steal no less, a foreclosure storefront on Main Street two blocks north of the Castle.

We were last here together in this very room just 2 weeks prior, the war room as we called it, to plan, strategize and launch an all out solid proof assault on the waitress, believable enough to give her true pause about Will's character and with just the right dosage of proof to draw her own conclusions. So what if we had to bend the truth, attribute others' bad behavior to Will or flat out lie. We had to be careful not to be too extreme or enter the world of ridiculousness and tip her off to our scheme. It was a delicate performance of a lifetime indeed.

"Thank you, Alicia dear! You were very convincing yourself!" I complimented her for her own rousing yet measured performance. I had to admit, I was pleased. Very, very pleased. It went exactly as I had hoped, although I had had my reservations about Alicia participating in my cunning ploy after she was appalled to learn it didn't involve a straightforward confrontation and issued threat to stay away from Will. "No Alicia, slow and steady wins the race," I reminded her. We had to use tact, employ an understated manipulation to bring forth our desired goal. I understood Alicia's desire to tear the waitress limb from limb for getting involved with my son, to sneer and call her a bitch and a whore, and to warn her just with whom she was dealing. I had had the same inclinations with my husband's mistresses as well once upon a time. My way was better, more effective. A more subtle subterfuge with the daft and unassuming Miss Clark was not just easier but would get the job done without damaging our own reputations.

In order for that to happen, I had to make this look as believable and natural as possible. Alicia was to be lying in wait up the street, and upon my text she was to park outside the Buttered Bun, poke her head into the café, ignore Miss Clark's presence altogether, flash me a wide smile while jingling her car keys and deliver the last and most crushing of blows to her. "Are you ready to go, _Mum_?" Yes, she would call me _mum._ That's when I would excuse myself from Miss Clark but not before telling her I was real estate shopping with Alicia today. Then Alicia and I would loudly broadcast that she had 3 excellent leads on properties for her and Mary's spa as we exited. Alicia's physical presence in Stortford and the mere assumption of purchasing property to put down roots was all I needed to seal the deal. Everything went exactly according to plan, and a lot hinged on Alicia doing her part and showing great restraint. I had to hand it to her – she pulled it off flawlessly. "You nailed your line perfectly!"

"Are you sure it worked though?" Mary chimed in curiously, unaware of the details of the how our scheme actually played out while she was back in London.

"Positive. You should have seen her face when she saw you, Alicia! My minions have told me she hasn't shown up to work for days!"

"You still have minions?!" Mary cried impressed that many things hadn't changed since our sorority days.

"The staff here is very loyal to me. They report everything they see and hear and know exactly which town crier's ear to whisper into to plant information for me or to make fiction sound like fact. How else do you think I've been able to cover up my husband's indiscretions or at least control the narrative. I've been my own publicist for years in fact. And now villagers know what I want them to – that Alicia is Will's girlfriend moving here to Granta House to open a spa. Mission accomplished, ladies."

"But are you sure that girl won't talk to Will?" Mary inquired. "This can easily unravel if she does and Will makes his own convincing case."

"She won't want to talk to Will after what I told her about him. Trust me."

Who cares if I attributed some of Rupert's misdeeds to Will? She would never meet Rupert anyways, and it was better this way. I knew Louisa Clark's type. Naïve and gullible, and with that starry-eyed and dreamy way she looked at my son it wouldn't take much to break her heart with a few plausible sounding lies and embellishments of the truth. I had no doubt that I did the right thing. I just kept hearing that cheerful and sappy saccharine voice exclaiming, "You raised an amazing son, Mrs. Traynor!"

No matter the consequences, this was well worth it. A mother's job was to protect her child. That's all I was doing, and it wouldn't be the first time I intervened in Will's life to set a chartered course or keep him from making a life-altering mistake. I'm talking about Tanya Houghton, Will's girlfriend his last year of uni. She wasn't just crazy in love with Will, she was crazy. Period. And possessive. And overly dramatic. A real party girl. Privileged yet broken. I warned Will about her. I was relieved when he ended things with her the summer between graduation and grad school, and once he met Kat that relationship was finally over and done with. When Will refused to take her calls that fall, she came to me with some story. Maybe she was pregnant with Will's child, maybe she wasn't. She was a deeply troubled girl, and I wasn't about to let Will get saddled with the likes of her or an offspring. By that time, her parents exacted some much needed tough love after her second DUI earlier that summer. Let's just say money talks and I could help her with her legal problems. "Will's moved on," I told her. "I suggest you do as well." A deal's a deal, and we've not heard hide nor hare from her since. Will's father didn't even know about the arrangement, it was best for all involved. But excising Louisa Clark compared to Tanya was a breeze.

Our conversation soon turned to the waitress's appearance with Alicia leading the charge ridiculing her gaudy taste in clothes. Hardly the epitome of sophistication. A white heart printed maroon dress, black tights and what appeared to be brand new and vibrant maroon and fuchsia striped legwarmers. "Ghastly indeed, Alicia!" I added. We both couldn't help wonder who on earth would buy let alone wear legwarmers in this day and age as well as 1940s pinup hair fastened above one ear and secured with a marcasite comb, mismatched with such an outfit. "What was Will thinking?" Alicia asked wincing as I concurred. He certainly had his father's bad taste in women.

I couldn't help but indulge in Alicia's flattering invitation to recount my exchange with the waitress for Mary's benefit and for her own enjoyment. "I never get tired of hearing it. And don't leave out leave any gory detail, '_Mum'_!"

I entered the café after the morning rush had subsided and approached her at the counter. "Miss Clark, would you join me for a few minutes? I'd like to talk." From the moment she looked up from the cash register, she looked petrified. "Is Will ok?" she fretted with those ridiculous blue saucer eyes of hers. If I repeat the word ridiculous, it's because I can't think of any better word suited to describe Louisa Clark. Ridiculous clothes. Ridiculous smile. Ridiculous eyes. Ridiculous voice. What was Will thinking was right!

"Yes, Will's fine, "I informed her. "But Miss Clark, how well do you know my son?"

She was stammering when I put her in the hot seat. "Well, I'm … well … um … since … um …," "

"Right, not for too long. Eight weeks at most?"

"Yeah, something like that," she softly whimpered, sinking in her seat.

Then I went for the kill. Shameless but effective, I pretended to be her ally and drew from my own life to earn her trust.

"Miss Clark, I come to you as a friend, you understand. I think you misunderstood my opposition towards you when we met. There are things you aren't … you aren't aware of."

Confusion set in.

"Um … things … like?" With her mouth left agape she appeared to look as stupid as I believed her to be.

"Who Will is. You see, it's very hard for me to speak badly of my son, but I can't stand by and watch him make a fool of you the way his father has made a fool of me all these years. You see, Miss Clark, my husband … my husband is a womanizer, and Will is … Will is his father's son I'm sorry to say. I realize our roles are reversed, but you seem like a very nice girl, and I was very angry with him for leading you on, knowing that he and Alicia have been trying to patch things up all along. Alicia met him in New York the other week, and they've been working out their differences. She'll be moving into the old stables with him when he returns."

"What? No. No, it can't be. Will said they had broken up and … and he's asked me to help him decorate the stable and buy …,"

"I'm sorry, Miss Clark. I'm quite aware of what my son says and the truth being two different things. Were you aware that they split the day before he met you?"

"No, it can't be. He said they weren't … he made it seem like they hadn't been together for a long time."

"I'm telling you the truth, Miss Clark. Will is not the person you think he is. He's always had an eye for the ladies. You must know that about him. I'm simply looking out for you and your good name in the village. If Alicia were to find out about you … I don't think you're the person who wants to be known as the other woman. Do you, Miss Clark?"

"No," she choked out, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"I'm trying to give you an out, Miss Clark, so you remain unscathed by this all. It was very unfair of Will to involve you in his drama. It's better you know now before you get too involved with him. May I call you, Louisa?"

Tears began to stream down her face as she nodded yes.

"Louisa, I love my son. Regardless of his faults, I'd like to see him happy and that means settling down and stopping all this nonsense. I'd hate for him to screw this up with Alicia like he did with Kat. You must know about Kat, don't you?"

"Just that they were on-again, off- again and … a long time …,"

"Yes, Miss Clark … err, Louisa. They lived together for some time, but there were other women. Always other women. A few years ago he was reckless and started an affair with a woman he had met on one of his extreme sports adventures abroad. You see she was a corporate spy, a plant sent to seduce him by his competitors, to manipulate his weakness for beautiful women and to use their relationship, if you can call it that, to obtain details on his business dealings and sabotage his company. The ramifications were severe. His poor judgement destroyed any chance he had of getting back together with Kat, who on the rebound married one of Will's longtime friends from London. Will even tried to stop the wedding to no avail. For a short time he even thought he fathered Kat's son, but that was disproven. That's when Alicia's godmother and I set him up with Alicia. For stability, you understand."

Hook, line and sinker. It really hit her hard. Yes, Louisa Clark, Will is not the man you think he is. Her mascara stained her tear-ridden cheeks as she grabbed at her chest taking in deep breaths. She was exactly where I wanted her and texted Alicia to make her surprise appearance.

"No, it can't be ….," she rambled on stuttering noticeably shaken. "Corporate espionage? But all those news articles? I thought Will introduced Kat to her …? That things were well-over by then? Her son isn't Will's? Are … are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure, but there's some truth to every lie, Louisa. He'll tell you it was his best friend Rupert who got into that sticky situation with the corporate spy, but it was the other way around. Will nearly destroyed his career. Rupert covered for him with the help of his uncle in senior management, and although Will's worked hard to redeem himself in the eyes of his superiors, the whole circumstance caused considerable damage to his advancement in his field no matter what you read in all those articles raving about his business exploits. That's really why he's leaving to takeover the Castle. He's plateaued in his career, and people are growing suspicious about him being passed over for promotions. I'm sorry to have to tell you all this. I can see you truly care for him."

Once Alicia made her entrance into the café, Louisa Clark was history. Just like that. With the seed of mistrust firmly planted in her head, Louisa Clark would never look at my son the same way. It was a foolproof plan. She would never have the nerve to confront Will, to ask him what was true or not true, and even if she did how could she believe whatever he told her. I raised my glass and toasted, "A character assassination well- planned and executed. To us!"


	53. Chapter 53

**CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE**

TREENA

Bloody hell! It can't be! He recreated her attic!

Real shiplap lined the walls and ceilings. Clean and white. With nicer wooden floors than Lou's! Much nicer wooden floors than Lou's. Expensive mahogany floors. It was a seaside getaway. Lou's _dream_ _cottage_. Set in Stortford _instead_ of Tenby. Her _dream _kitchen with long white and gray marble countertops, white cabinets that outnumbered the ones we had, sleek steel appliances and a large island with plenty of storage space unlike our little kitchen at home. Her _dream _bathroom with white wainscott and subway tile, a large glass encased shower, and a fancy clawfoot soaking bathtub high up on her wish list. And there it stood. A white double bathroom vanity that screamed my sister. It was the one single piece she coveted the most, something she always said she wanted in her _dream home_.

I know that Will had asked for her help to decorate, but this … this was uncanny. I was having a hard time believing all of this was meant for a woman other than my sister.

I needed to separate fact from fiction. Was Will Traynor too good to be true? Or, was he as perfect as he seemed? And if so, why would Will's mum lie about him? What would she gain by trashing his reputation? I could never do that to Tom. Something was fishy, and I was determined to find out the truth.

On one hand, Lou and I had no reason not to believe Mrs. Traynor who after all was a magistrate presiding over family court. She was responsible for the lives of young children, and their futures depended on her wise counsel and rulings. Her position in the community and reputation of the courts proved her to be a stalwart of justice. We had no reason not to trust her. Would she really have the chutzpah to trash talk her own son? I didn't know her personally, but was it possible? She was quite hostile towards Lou when they first met, so you never know. I was growing suspicious every second I spent in the stables.

And then there was that curious monthly dividend statement that nagged me all night long. Why would Will take such an interest and invest Lou's earnings from Le Bise to make her more financially independent and ease our family's struggles if she was only someone he was fooling around with behind his girlfriend's back? It didn't make any sense. No man goes out of his way like that. And no man goes out of his way to befriend the fatherless nephew of the woman he's interested in if he wasn't sincere and serious about her. No potential boyfriend or crush of mine has made any effort with Tom. In fact, they do the opposite once they learn of his existence and run like cowards. Lou deserved every happiness after the hedge maze and that knob head Patrick, and as much as I was investigating for my sister's sake, I owed it to Tom as well. He was crazy about Will, and maybe just maybe I wouldn't have to explain to him that they wouldn't be hanging out like planned and why. Talk about disappointment. I wasn't sure how much a 5 year old could handle, especially since he was of an age where he saw the other boys with their dads at the park and at school functions. It just would be nice for Tom if Will were his friend.

The dividend statement. The dividend statement. I couldn't get it out of my mind. Who does that? Someone in bloody love with my daft sister is who! That morning at the florist, I volunteered to make deliveries for a church wedding for my boss knowing it would take me past the Buttered Bun, and if memory served me right, Lou had told me that Frank made his own daily lunch delivery to the crew working the renovation at Granta House. Without her at the café, Frank had to be inundated that time of day, so I thought I would stop by and update him on Lou's health and generously offer to lend a hand and make that lunch delivery myself. Easy peasy access. Frank jumped at the idea, giving me the perfect ruse to get on to the grounds without trespassing and to snoop around in an attempt to learn anything I could to shed some light on the Will Traynor situation and to help my sister. I wandered from room to room in awe of the customization of the stables aligned with Lou's fascination with Tenby while looking for the project manager to collect Frank's payment. "Do you know where I can find Danny?" I asked a number of men. "Try the adjoining walk-in his and her closets through the master bedroom."

As I entered the master, I was pleasantly shocked to take in the most breath-taking view of Stortford Castle in the distance. Tall and majestic, it glistened in the sun and filled the width of the large picture window. From beyond the interior door, I eavesdropped a heated argument between a man I believed to be Danny and 2 women.

"Who on Earth would ever hang these on a closet wall? Take them down now!" the younger woman demanded raising her voice louder and louder with each word spoken.

"They stay!" Danny responded emphatically.

"On whose authority?"

"Mr. Traynor's, that's who!"

"Camilla, do something. They're so ugly! Take them off! Get rid of them now!" the younger woman whined, huffing and puffing like a spoiled child. That was Alicia, I supposed. The other woman non other than Mrs. Camilla Traynor herself.

"Come now, Danny. I'm not quite sure Will would have instructed you to erect a wall of crown moldings. It's quite silly looking and low class, don't you think?"

Crown moldings?! For shoes?! That bitch! That closet was built for Louisa! She bloody lied!

"No can do, Mrs. Traynor! Your son gave me specific directions."

"Well, you see, Danny, I'm Will's mum, and I'm telling you to remove these eyesores from the wall now. They're upsetting Alicia."

"With all due respect, ma'am," Danny continued regrettably but firm, "Your son employs me _not_ you. Any changes must come directly from him."

"Take them down now! Camilla!" Alicia hollered as she stomped on the floor. What a brat! A real nutter! I can see why Will dumped her. Someone needed to smack her this minute, and I was tempted to give her the back of my hand! And what happened to calling Mrs. Traynor _mum, _huh_? _What a scam those two played on Lou!

"Talk to Mr. Traynor!" Danny snapped losing his patience, and stepping hurridly from the closet, ran right into me.

"Sorry, delivery from the Buttered Bun. Your bill."

Danny took the receipt from me and opened his wallet readying the payment.

"Danny, this isn't over," Camilla Traynor hissed coming up behind the contractor.

"It is, Mrs. Traynor. Speak to your son not me."

Uncomfortable to be standing in the midst of an ongoing fight while waiting for the payment, I politeky smiled at Mrs. Traynor, who looked me up and down with a sneer as if there was something wrong with my straightened caramel hair, gray hoodie, plaid shirt, blue jeans and Ked sneakers.

"Don't you work at the Sainsbury's Supermarket?" Camilla Traynor arrogantly asked, speaking down to me like I was inferior.

"No, sorry."

"Are you _sure_ you don't work there?"

"Yes, positive," I smiled, trying to hold my tongue and be polite.

"Don't lie to me," she indignantly cried.

Sarcastic. Blunt. Mouthy. Smart Alec. Rude when I needed to be. You're not dealing with my sister anymore, old woman! You're dealing with me, and I don't shy away from a fight.

"_Don't lie to me?" _I shot back, outraged by her insult._ "_Don't you think I know where I work?"

"I know you work there."

"Really? How can you possibly know that? I didn't think a snooty, high-class woman like yourself would go slumming in a supermarket. Don't you have _staff_ you pay for that?"

With the payment safely in my hand, the old battle-axe brusquely dismissed me. "You have your money, now go."

"My pleasure!" I gritted between my teeth. Camilla Traynor knew nothing about me, but she would soon find out. Not only did I harbor a grudge, I always got revenge.

This was war!

I wanted to wring Lou's neck when I told her what transpired earlier in the day and yet I hadn't convinced her to change her mind about Will or at the very least question the legitimacy of Mrs. Traynor's allegations given what I saw and overheard as well as my own explosive interaction with the fine magistrate herself.

"Treen, it means nothing. So what he ripped off my attic?! None of that means Mrs. Traynor lied. He's still back with his girlfriend! That's the truth! She's there, isn't she?"

You stupid, stupid stubborn girl! You really are that daft! It was time to take it directly to horse's mouth and see what Will Traynor had to say for himself. With no way of contacting him, I needed Lou's mobile. And I knew exactly how to get my hands on it!

"Tom, Auntie Lou and Will had a fight. Want to help mum play matchmaker and get them back together? Yes? Perfect! I'm going to need you to snuggle with your auntie, then ask her if you could please, please, please play games on her iPhone. Once she says yes, bring it to me. Then we're calling Will. No one's to know, ok? It'll be our little secret."


	54. Chapter 54

**CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR **

LOU

There were 2 things I learned that day – Will Traynor could not be seduced by anyone but me AND he was a mastermind! An absolute genius. A sexy, absolute genius who loved me beyond my wildest dreams and let me do whatever I wanted to him whenever I wanted. "Camilla Traynor is just going to have to suck it up and get used to us being _together_ _together_," Will stated with certainty. And as of tonight, we were _together together _as he put it. There would be no arguments from me on the subject. I had Will back, and I was pretty much guaranteed a future with the man I couldn't imagine living life without.

God bless Katrina Leigh Clark for her meddling and for bringing Will Traynor back into my life! At 12 midnight on a Tuesday morning as I was still slowly recovering, she woke me to let Will into my attic to explain everything to me. I was apparently his second stop in Stortford after returning from Australia, the first to ink more paperwork he said.

Once all was revealed, I was finally able to emerge from my bed, the end to a weeklong ordeal fabricated for my personal benefit by one Camilla Traynor.

"You need a shower, Clark. A nice hot shower! You richly deserve that."

"Then sex?" I pathetically inquired stammering as he physically ushered me from the attic to the bath holding my robe in my arms.

He kissed my forehead and drew my shower water. "Take your time and relax," he instructed me.

"Yeah, but then sex, right?"

"YES!" Will laughed. "In the meantime, I'll put a fresh pair of sheets on your bed and tidy up the attic."

The instance he said that I immediately felt guilty. The attic was a mess. Mountains of used tissues crumpled and thrown everywhere littered the attic floor as did ginger ale bottles to help soothe my stomach ailments. "No, no, Will. Absolutely not. I'll clean up my own mess."

Grinning, he leaned in and kissed my forehead a second time whispering, "Clark, I'm a neat freak. You don't honestly expect me to make love in a messy room, do you? I'd be too distracted by the clutter. Don't you want my full undivided attention?"

"Oh, I do! I do!" I cried not just mesmerized by his generosity but also by the expectation of having sex with him tonight. "You don't mind cleaning up my snotty tissues though?" I fretted, lifting my eyebrows high and crinkling my forehead, feeling bad, very bad that my very, very kind boyfriend wanted to clean up after me.

"No, not in the least bit," he laughed as he smiled and shook his head no.

"You _do _love me!"

"I _do _love you, Clark. Yes, I do. Now go, take your shower. I'll be upstairs working."

I knew that I must have had the goofiest, happiest smile on my face, but when I was alone in the loo and glanced in the mirror for the first time in a week, I looked downright mangy. Will Traynor must seriously love me to see me like this and still want me, I thought! God, I was smelly. I needed first to brush my teeth, then I was long overdo for a shower. I desperately, desperately needed that shower and coupled it afterwards with a blowout, leaving my hair silky and straight, a far cry from the bird's nest to which I had grown accustomed. With not a stitch of makeup on, I decided to apply only _my_ _man's_ favorite watermelon lip gloss knowing how it always managed to drive him insane, and once I swore I looked and felt human again, and wearing only my short, silk Chinese robe I hurried up the stairs to my attic eager, eager to have sex with _my_ boyfriend.

I couldn't help but admit that Treena _had been right_ all along … there _was_ something very wrong with Will and that something as it turned out was what made him perfect. I had come to a new understanding of who Will Traynor was that evening, and it was one that only he and I could only possibly understand. A connection that could not be explained, a connection I didn't care to be explained. Why? How? Who cared?! He was mine, all mine, and let's not mince words – I was ravenous and horny. My God! I hadn't had sex with him in 2 weeks! Two freaking weeks!

I crept back into the attic silently, quietly locking the door behind me, and made a direct beeline for him. Oh, he was like a dream, a really sexy dream. Sitting on my bed in his gray undershirt and light blue boxers. Do I say anything? Was there anything to say? "Remove your clothes! I want to sit and watch!" I thought to say but didn't. I would definitely do so on another day when I wasn't so _needy_. I told Will I didn't like sex, but the truth was I liked sex with Will Traynor. Reformed ladies' man. Reformed ladies' man who allowed me on top and in control, no questions asked. I was desperate to have my way with him again tonight. Can you even imagine? I didn't care that my entire family was downstairs sleeping. All I knew was that I would never let this man go again and I would never doubt him again. I, Louisa Clark, had but one goal in this life right now. I intended to make love with this man so much so often that I would lose count of the number of times we were together! I could just hear Treena mocking me for having such a ridiculous thought. It was, however, the only one thing on my mind, and I couldn't wait to get started on my newfound goal.

"Hi," I shyly greeted him like an admiring fan girl. What the hell just happened to my empowered voice? Ah, screw it, Clark! No more talking! Only action. Only action I screamed to myself!

Will grinned from ear to ear, his hand reaching out for mine pulling me towards him as I flounced on top of him kneeling down on his lap. Ah, my perch! My heavenly perch! Without speaking a word, my giggles communicated to him my innermost thoughts and desires. I was a silly, silly girl …. my eyebrows fluttering between a giggle and a sigh and a sigh and a giggle. Will began to laugh, I mean how could he not. I gasped as my eyes opened wide and I licked my lips at the sight of my man removing his t-shirt for me. Jesus! He was sexy, I mean _sexy_ _hot_. In that moment I had an epiphany. I wasn't just horny. God no! I was sex-starved for Will Traynor! I was about to have sex! Right freaking now!

I seized the moment with no hesitation. I untied my robe revealing nothing underneath, and let it fall to the floor, and without any assistance from him this time, I did the rest on my own, placing him deep inside me, and wrapping my arms around his neck I began to savor him slowly each second thereafter when he joined in. Oh Lou, don't be loud I had to remind myself! Enjoy yourself, but don't be loud! Don't wake anyone! For God's sake, don't wake anyone!

Oh dear! That man was a living breathing god! No, strike that. _My_ _man_ was a living, breathing god! How unfair for other men with half or little of his talent! His large masculine hands. His supple lips. The movement of his tongue. The way he well … you know … as I … you know! How he could incorporate everything together was anyone's guess! Talk about the walking and chewing gum argument. Oh, it was entirely possible to do both! Now more than ever I was convinced of such!

Our lovemaking marked the end of his time in London and the rest of our lives together in Stortford. I lay on top of him afterward, stroking and kissing the very patterned cluster of chest hair I admired from afar when we first met.

"Multifaceted. Fully engaged. And very, very giving! Remarkable, really!" I cooed, staring into his eyes.

He burst out laughing, confused. Not an clue that I was referring to him! "What are you talking about?"

"YOU! The Eighth Wonder of the World!"

"Stop, Clark!" he blushed, turning bright red.

Look at _my_ _man_ blush! Bashful and shy! Was he adorable or what? I felt re-invigorated after reuniting with him … fully recharged and better than ever … after physically uniting with him that is! I was satisfied, but if at all possible still sex-starved! I wanted MORE, MORE, MORE!

"What? Am I embarrassing you, Will?" I playfully mocked him, finding all kinds of new pleasure in it.

"Yes!" he laughed, diverting his eyes from me.

"Don't divert your eyes from me after you ….," I lowered my voice to almost a whisper and found myself flushed and smirking as I uttered, "_Thrust _like that!"

"Clark!"

"OH MY GOSH! WILL TRAYNOR! You like to DO IT, not talk about IT! HMMMMM? Is that it?"

He closed his eyes tight and grinned embarassed! I kicked my heels up and squealed in delight!

"Oh Will! That's it, isn't it?! Did anyone ever tell you you're "_sexy hot_", HMMMMMM?!"

"Errr! Is there a distinction between "_sexy"_ and "_sexy hot"_ or am I going to regret asking?

"Regret asking, of course!" Oh, I was going to brag about his abilities! Brag, brag, brag! "You _even_ make an art form out of breasts su !" I announced when he cut me off.

His eyes flew open shocked by my frankness and gall. "Clark!"

I was feeling quite bold and ignored his self-consciousness over talking about sex and continued on.

"Your _LARGE_ masculine hands caressing me, holding me firmly with one hand, pressing me closer to you and holding me strongly in place as you …," I giggled. " As you c….,"

"Stop!" He interrupted me! No. No. No.

"Welllll, then can I talk about how your supple lips engaged mine the entire time? The moistness of your kisses …," I continued to giggle, "The way your tongue ….,"

"Clark! Shhhhh!" he begged and re- engaged my lips for a reprieve from my taunting. He wasn't getting away with it that easily!

"You never seem to tire either! _Just what would … um.. make you tire?" _

"Dear God, Clark! You're insatiable!"

"I am, Will Traynor! You've created a monster! Now do tell me what _would _tire you out."

"No. Stop, really Clark! You really _are_ embarrassing me!"

"You know I plan on tiring you out once I get you alone in the stables … where I can be _as_ _loud_ _as I want!_" I sang out cheerfully.

"Ok, you do that then!" he grinned beet red.

"Oh I will! Count on it," I promised grinning, grinning, grinning! The Cheshire cat had nothing on me! "So Will, would _that_ be considered makeup sex?"

"No, Clark. We weren't fighting."

"Right!" I stood corrected. We weren't really fighting, just separated by many time zones and a horrible ruse by Cruella DeVille! "Oh I got it! More like when the troops return home from war sex! No wonder why there were so many baby booms!"

"Yes, a bit like that I guess," he laughed heartedly at my naivety. "So Clark, speaking of babies, tell me," he gestured with wide eyes, "Do you want to fill up the stables with our crazy dream daughters?"

"And then some," I smiled coyly, biting my lip then giggling. "And then some!"

My goodness! Everything I said made him easily blush tonight! I was on a roll. Don't stop now, I egged myself on.

"Will? You know, Pat ….,"

"Oh God, Clark. No talk of Running Man. Please, not now."

"Don't wince without knowing what I was going to say," I smirked. Yes, I was being cheeky, very cheeky with him. "Sooooooooo, Pat had 1/10th of your talent. No, no. Far less than that! And ….,"

He cut me off again! That bastard!

"No talk of Running Man, not before sex, not during sex, not after sex. Understood?"

I pretended to be annoyed by his countless interruptions and his refusal to discuss Pat in a sexual sense, any sense at all. I even rolled my eyes smiling. "Jeez, Will!" I mean the truth was that Pat was no Will Traynor. He could only do one thing at a time. Selfish, out of breath and boorish, he always made statements overestimating his abilities and nagged me with questions he arrogantly presumed to know the answers to. "How good was that?" "That'll tie you over for some time, won't it, Lou?!" "I'm the man!" he often declared chest thumping as he patted himself on the back. I shudder recalling lying there hoping sex with him would come to a swift conclusion. "Yeah, sure," I used to say trying to sound convincing. "Yeah, sure," I rolled my eyes back then in disbelief!

"What can I do to shut you up tonight? Name it, Clark."

"Anything?" I devilishly grinned, remembering the one thing I most wanted to hear again.

"Anything!"

"Sing it to me again …. the whole thing, not just the chorus."

"I wi-li-lished I li-li-lived in Molahonkey la-la-land The la-la-land where I-li-li was bo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lorn So I-li-li could play-la-lay my o-lo-lold banjo-lo-lo My o-lo-lold ban-jo-lo-lo won't go-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo. "Jesus Christ." I took another breath. I too-lo-look it to-lo-lo the me-le-lender's sho-lo-lop to See-lee-lee what they-le-ley could do-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo They sai-lai-laid to me-le-le your stri-li-lings are sho-lo-lot They're no-lo-lo more u-lu-luse to you-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-loo."

Ah, it was music to my ears! And my eyes! A naked Will Traynor singing me a lullaby! Did it get any better than this? THE ANSWER – FREAKING NO!

That morning Treena came bounding into the attic the minute Will left early to return to Granta House and to settle the score with his mum and Alicia. She, as it turned out, had not only tipped Will off to his mum's evil plot but also acted as his proxy to setup his revenge.

"Well? What happened?" she asked slyly. "Or do I need to ask?"

"You're never going to believe this, Treen!"


	55. Chapter 55

**CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE**

The trick to making French Toast is to use a cast-iron pan and day's old stale bread, if available. Just my luck my mum's kitchen had both this beautiful Tuesday morning. The sun was rising and subtly creeping into Granta House from the east ever so slightly warming the chill of the early morning air. One would think I would be livid after what my mum, Alicia and Mary pulled, but I was in a good mood and famished after a healthy and hearty dose of Louisa Clark. Nothing like getting the old blood pumping and heart rate up, especially with the woman I intended to spend the rest of my life with. I had come clean to her about everything, and with an open mind she listened curiously and embraced my dreams as prophetic. The sex that ensued next was mind blowing. And I couldn't wait to get her back in bed.

It wasn't that long ago that I last cooked in the kitchen of Granta House – a savory chicken parmigiana dinner on the Castle lawn for Louisa the first time we made love. Just standing there brought back that evening in vivid detail, the way she clung to my body, the way she moved, the liberties she took with me. I continued making my morning feast humming a familiar lullaby only known to me and her. A celebratory feast was more like it, and I couldn't wait for my guests of honor to wake from their slumber to a new world order this morning. It would be the last peaceful sleep the three wayward sisters in **Macbeth** would have for a good long while. They brought it upon themselves I reasoned, their conniving, scheming, loathsome selves.

They say there is a direct correlation between memories and events and the olfactory senses. I hoped that the pleasant waffling scent of French Toast would forever be a reminder to them of their demise, the day I outwitted them, the day I schooled them that they were no match for me, the day I left them powerless without any plays left to pursue.

I whisked my main ingredients of eggs and whole milk and then customized it with some preferences , folded in a bit of flour to make the toast fluffier, then dipped the breast into the mixture on both sides and grilled it in the cast- iron pan using melted salted butter. And voila! I couldn't wait to make this soon for Louisa and wow her with my one remaining culinary wonder outside of summer grilling. Today, however, it was meant to unsettle my guests, an action to deliberately give them disquieting misgivings of ever crossing me again.

I set the kitchen table and arranged the french toast on a large serving dish along with several topings to choose from, and fixing myself a heaping plate I began to eat waiting patiently in silence.

Ah, the clicking of stilettos. The clacking of conservative heels. Only 2 sets, easily identified. Alicia and Mum.

"Thank you so much Camilla for offering to drive me to the real estate agent to sign the papers while my car's in the shop. I'm so jazzed to buy the property!"

"You're welc … Will, you're back!"

Startled, they both fell silent, their faces drained of color, and they stood frozen in fear. Good, I thought. I caught them off guard. Splendid!

I plastered a devilish grin on my face and greeted them. "Hello Mother! Lissa! No Mary today?"

"No …," both said in unison like deer caught in headlights.

"Auntie Mary had boutique business in London," Alicia stammered with a nervous laugh.

"Too bad," I feigned disappointment. "I was so looking forward to seeing her again. But I can't blame her. I've heard that Kat's boutique has been taking away business with some _original_ _designs!"_ Yes, Louisa's designs, and Alicia knew it.

She quickly turned to my mum and whispered under her breath as if I couldn't hear her from the short distance away from where I sat. "Shit, Camilla! He knows! Shit. Shit. Shit."

My mum locked eyes with me, paralyzed knowing the gig was up.

"Shit is right, Lissa. I do know. Now won't you 2 lovely ladies join me? I made breakfast. Come. Eat. Sit. Please, I insist. There's syrup, grape jelly, powdered sugar."

They exchanged glances first before begrudgingly taking their seats across from me. Anxious. Grim. Worried. Their shoulders tensed, their backs arched. They were unsure of what to expect next.

"You're in for a real treat. I made them with vanilla extract and rum. Mmmmm! Really delicious!" I over exaggerated to make them even more nervous and uncomfortable. "I'm ravenous this morning. Built up quite the appetite visiting with Louisa last night."

"Listen Will, we were just worried about you and …,"Alicia asserted rather unconvincingly when I cut her off abruptly.

"I'm not interested in your excuses, so let's just drop the pretenses this morning, shall we?" I asked. I knew all too well that I didn't need to spell it out them – they were in trouble!

My mum opened her mouth then closed it once I gave her a stern look. Trust me, she really needed to close that mouth of hers if she knew what was good for her.

"How is Louisa you both ask? Thanks for your concern. Well, she spent the majority of last week vomiting and bedridden. Lost an entire week's pay which her family depends upon to keep them afloat since her dad's company closed earlier this year. Thankfully, I invested her earrings from _Le_ _Bise_, so her monthly dividend can cover her family's expenses in the meantime. She's too proud to accept any money from me, you understand. Oh, and because she was so sick, her mum had to do double-duty and take care of not only Louisa's elderly granddad whose had 2 strokes but also her sister's 5 year old. But everything's good now _because_ I'm back. I know _you_ _know_ what that means."

I looked at their empty plates and grimaced. "Please eat something. I worked so hard on this for you."

I watched as they hesitantly prepared their plates and slowly and apprehensively began to eat as if I had poisoned the food.

"Come now, you're really insulting me. Dig in!" I smiled broadly.

"It's really good. Just like I remembered!" Alicia play-acted as she chewed on her French toast.

"Yes, yes. Very good, Will!" my mum added flatly. She was no actress like Alicia.

"Now just let me preface, anything you can do I can certainly do better. It's just a simple fact I thought you both needed reminding of."

"Will,….." my mother started to speak.

"Shut up, Mother. And listen for once in your life. _Louisa_ _is_ _off_ _limits_. Now I've taken it upon myself to set some things straight. I heard about your spa, Lissa, and while I think it would be a wonderful addition to complement the Castle clientele and reinvigorate the local economy, you won't be buying that specific property you had in mind today."

Anger erupted on Alicia's face, her true self emerging like I had expected. "And just why the bloody hell not?" she shouted in response.

"My regrets. I outbid you. I now own that foreclosed property. I have specific plans for the space and need its large storage capacity. Well actually … in fact," I proudly stated, "As of yesterday I own all the foreclosures along Main Street."

"You bastard! You sabotaged me!" she snarled like de Kooning's Woman coming back to life. Her nostrils flared, her fingers automatically morphed into the shape of talons, and her teeth looked shark-like and menacing reading to tear flesh from my bones. This time around, I didn't care. The Viking ogre would be put into her place. They both would.

"I wouldn't say I've ruined everything. I do like the idea of a spa, and I've reached out on your behalf with the owners of the salon a few doors away from the Castle. They're both seniors and interested in selling for the right price with a few caveats."

"You can't be serious!" my mum bellowed. "Are you talking about those 2 old, gossipy dingbats at the café?"

"I am! Nina and Cherie! You know them then? Young at heart! Just delightful! I told them I'd be happy to get them a fair price with a guarantee that they can stay on to work the salon at the spa until they decide to retire."

"You bastard!" Alicia repeated her name calling enunciating every syllable.

"You already said that!" I grinned back mockingly as I waited for a reply. "Interested? I told them I'd update them with your interest level. Well?"

"You want to saddle me with those old crones?! No, you arse! No!"

I was pleased at how irate she was, but not as pleased as I'd be once I gave my mum her comeuppance.

"It's a good deal, prime location, built-in clientele to begin with," I argued. "The building only needs interior remodeling. You should really reconsider. It's a sound structure that's up to code. You'd be a fool to pass this up. Now as for you, Mother, I also have a surprise for you!"

A scowl! Perfect! Alicia sat in horror, speechless as she glanced from me to my mum.

"I spoke with Thaddeus McHenry last night. You know Thaddeus. Don't you, Mum? You serve with him on the Stortford Merchant's Council. I believe he's the new head."

"William, where are you going with this?"

"You see, Mum, I know I told you to leave Louisa alone or I would cut you out of my life, but I've reconsidered. What fun would that be? For me, of course. Now I had a _long_ conversation with Thaddeus, letting him know that that I've purchased the Castle and most of Main Street along with my plans to re-develop the area surrounding the Castle. Build Stortford back up from the center on out, put it on the map. He was eager to hear more details, but he did ask me why the sudden interest in Stortford, why return now. Well, I just couldn't lie to him. I told him about how close _you and I are_, Mum, and how worried I was about you after that memory lapse incident you had in the summer. Granted, it only happened once, but it worried me enough to come home. "

"There was no memory lapse incident! You bastard!"

"Why does everyone keep insisting on calling me that today?"

"How dare you, Will? What about my position in the courts? People talk, William?"

"_I_ _know_, I learned that from you. What's that? I seem to have impregnated Kat and begged her to come back to me on the eve of her wedding? Or worse, I was seduced by a corporate spy and compromised my company and career and have been trying to redeem myself ever since? I _seem_ to have bought the Castle to escape questions about _my jaded_ _past_? You mean that type of talk, Mother?"

"I was trying to protect you!"

"I didn't need protecting!"

"I'm your mother!"

"And I'm your _very_ worried adult son looking after you these days! I've also told Thaddeus that I'll be assuming your role on the Merchant's Council as the current owner of Stortford Castle and to relieve you of any additional stress so that you can concentrate on your job as magistrate, although I wondered myself how much longer you would continue working as well."

"YOU'VE RUINED MY CAREER! PEOPLE ARE GOING TO QUESTION EVERY DECISION I'VE MADE AND WILL MAKE!"

"Fair is fair, Mother. I've learned this from you! Besides, I do worry about some of your decisions and actions as of late!"

Alicia grabbed hold on my mother's arm to comfort her. "You really are a piece of shit, Will!" she cried defending her bestie.

"I'm not done yet."

They both sat petulant, seething in defeat, losing at a game they created themselves.

"I'm glad you both have one another when you hear this. Thaddeus seemed to have mentioned my beautiful blonde girlfriend he heard is looking to open a spa. I told him that you were not my girlfriend, and that I wasn't sure _just_ how that rumor got started, but that the two of you were _close_ _friends_ … exactly _what_ _kind_ of relationship I didn't really know … but that was another reason why I returned home. Mum's loaded and combined with the memory slip up, someone had to look out for her best interest against opportunists taking advantage of her under any circumstance. Don't worry, I told him in the strictest of confidence. I _hope_ he's trustworthy!"

I never saw my mum so angry with me as she was right this minute. If only I were lucky enough to be disinherited, tossed out of the family as the black sheep, and be done with me once and for all.

"Now Lissa, time's ticking on that property with Nina and Cherie. Think about it, talk it over with Mary. You'll need to speak to my new employee, Katrina, and she'll get the ball rolling. You know, I think you both met her the other day in the stables making a delivery. Jeans. Hoodie. She's Louisa's sister by the way. Girl's got moxy. Helped me put all the Main Street purchases together in record time. Reminds me of a young Gwen! Wouldn't you agree, Mother? I know how much you like Gwen. Imagine having two of them now?!"

My mum rose from the kitchen table and made her exit known by the slamming of the door leading to the gardens. Alicia followed in suit running after her, but not before calling me a bastard one last time! From a distance I could hear the fallout of my plan in motion … ah, sweet success when co-conspirators implode and turn on one another. There was nothing like a little in-fighting, and being able to overhear it was a bonus! Louisa was going to love this!

"Camilla, what are we going to do?! Camilla?!

"Not now, Alicia! Leave me be!"

"Should we call Auntie Mary?!"

"I don't care who you bloody call, Alicia!"

"I'm out of a job! I needed that property! What am I going to do now?"

"What are YOU going to do? What the bloody hell am I going to do? I have MY OWN career to think about!"

"What happened to thinking of me like a daughter? HUH?"

"Oh shut up, Alicia"

"No, you shut up, Camilla! You told me to trust you, and now look at where we are! It's all your fault! You told me you HAD this! Don't you walk away from me! Camilla?! Camilla?! Come back here!"


	56. Chapter 56

**CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX**

LOU

Treena was never going to believe this, and I couldn't wait to tell her this incredible story. A fairy tale. My fairy tale. I hadn't believed a word Will said, not until … until he sang me The Molahonkey Song. A song created just to entertain and comfort me as a child, its writer deceased for many, many years now. And there were so many other inexplicable things. He described in detail a beloved 1940s vintage skirt I had fallen in love with, window-stalked, and put on layaway at my favorite consignment shop in Hailsbury, one I penny pinched to buy, one that I never got to wear outside of my own house because it got ruined the very first time I wore it.

Last evening when Will came to me, I hated Treena for letting him in, for stealing my phone and for calling him. How could she do this to me, betray me like this, I thought? She was _my_ sister not his! I didn't want to see him or hear excuses, no matter that crown molding hung in some closet or a monthly dividend statement sat on my dresser. Alicia had moved to Stortford, bought a spa, and called Mrs. Traynor _mum_. How much more real could it get? I couldn't handle anything more than that, and I was barely handling that at all.

I rolled on my side to face away from the doorway and concealed my face with my covers over my head. "Oh God no! Please just no away, Will! I don't want to talk to you," I pleaded. "I don't want to see you or talk to you!"

"Clark, do you really think your sister would let me in if I cheated on you or betrayed you?"

"Well, she just did!" I argued, sticking to my guns.

"Louisa, we're talking about Katrina Clark! I think she'd gut me with a fishing scythe if I ever hurt you and deservingly so. Don't you think?"

"Will, please. I really don't want to talk right now. If I promise to talk to you when I'm feeling better, will you please leave?"

"No."

"No?"

"No, not until we undo the damage my mum did. I know she ambushed you at the café and what she said. Treena told me everything, including what she overheard at the stables. Clark, listen me. Everything my mum told you was a lie!"

"You're mum said you'd say that!"

"Of course she did, Clark! She really did a job on you."

"So that wasn't you who slept with a corporate spy?" I asked indignantly with my mind already made up that I wouldn't believe one word he uttered.

"No, it was not! I'm also aware my mum told you I would say it was Rupert. It was Rupert! I have nothing to lie to you about. If it were me, I would fess up to it and tell you so."

"And Kat?"

"I never slept with a corporate spy and destroyed my relationship with Kat! Never begged her to take me back and seduce her the evening before her wedding. Never once thought her son was mine. That was an impossibility. In fact, I was best man at their wedding, I was still working on the toast with her husband getting pissed at a local pub!"

"Oh yeah," I cried, let's hear him deny New York now! "So you never saw Alicia on your New York City trip?"

"I won't lie to you. Alicia _was _in New York. I _did_ see her. My mum … someone leaked my itinerary and room assignment. Alicia ambushed me herself in the shower, but nothing happened."

"What?! In the shower?! Am I supposed to believe that?!"

"Yes, I told her for the last time we were broken up! We fought, and I made my way down to the side street where she followed me and where I almost got hit by a speeding motorbike. That's why I left New York early and showed up at your door."

"You almost got what? A motorbike?"

"Yes, I _almost _got hit by a motorbike. My mum didn't tell you?"

"No."

"Of course not. She neglected to tell you that, how convenient for her. She's known since the night we argued at Granta House, the night she met you. And for your information the Mother of Dragons character really did call me a pervert in Times Square after I told her my girlfriend looks like EC, and because I don't want to keep anything from you my co-worker hit on me several times in New York, inviting me back to her room, but I told her no many, many times. I have been faithful to you the whole time."

"Oh God, Will! Another woman! Who now?"

"Felice."

"The one who's taking your place?! The one who went to Singapore and New York with you?!"

"Yes, and I told her that I was in a serious relationship, that I was having a home built for us, and that you were the reason I was returning home."

"That's not true. You're returning home because you bought your family's Castle."

I would do anything at this point to catch him in a lie, just to be right. It was easier that way, easier than allowing myself to be duped and going through that heartache again. It was bound to happen with this casanova. Alicia. Felice. I wondered how many more there were, how many more there would be to try and seduce him.

"No, I only bought the Castle the afternoon after we first spoke at the stadium. I didn't even know my father intended on closing it. I was under the impression I was there that weekend to see blueprints for another renovation he would never followed through on. An opportunity presented itself, and I took it to be close to you, hoping something … something would happen between us."

"What?! No!"

"Clark, don't you understand? I couldn't … I could never do to you what my mum said. I've loved you .. bloody hell, I've been in love with you forever .. for over a year and a half now since you first appeared in my dreams!"

I shot up straight in bed in shock, my mouth agape in disbelief. Were my ears deceiving me? Treena was right after all! There was something very, very wrong with the perfect Will Traynor! He was _bat_ _shit_ _crazy_! "WHAT?! You dreamed of me? You were serious?"

"Yes, I was serious, and I know how it sounds, Clark! God knows I know how it sounds! But it's true. I was there, and you were there. I was a quadraoelegic man, and," he stopped when read the confusion on my face. "I was paralyzed and had little to no use of my hands or legs, and you … you were my carer. We fell in love but only after I had already decided to end my life at a facility in Switzerland. We argued about that, and you called me selfish. But I didn't go through with it because … because I loved you so much."

I was left speechless. What does one say?

"Clark, say something?"

My voice cracked as I gulped, still reeling from the insanity of such a story. "Will, I think you should leave now," I choked through tears.

"Oh, no, no, no, no, Clark. You've done enough crying this week. Please don't cry. Shhhhhh." He pulled me into a gentle embrace, cradling me softly and began to sing.

"I wi-li-lished I li-li-lived in Molahonkey la-la-land The la-la-land where I-li-li was bo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lorn …,"

My eyes flew open immediately. It couldn't be, but how? It wasn't possible. I demanded an answer. "How do you know that song?"

"I thought everyone knew it," he hesitantly replied.

"Stop lying. No one knows it. How do you?"

"I sang it to _our_ _dream daughter_."

"Your _dream daughter?_

"Charlotte. Charlotte Grace. We called her Charley."

"WHAT?! But how? When Treena was Thomas's age she was hospitalized for pneumonia, and I was shipped to live with my great-aunt Charlotte in Norwich for the summer. She used to make up crazy children's stories to entertain me because I missed my family so much and was so worried about Treena. She made up that song to sing me to sleep, and the main character of her story was a little girl named Grace. I never told anyone. Not Mum. Not Dad. Not Treena. I never even sung it to Thomas."

"I don't know, Clark. All I know is what I told you."

"Are you sure?"

"Quite, I know nothing more about the song, only that Charley wanted me to sing it to her and _our_ _other_ _dream_ _daughter _Willow."

Dear God! My emotions were all over the place, but I couldn't help but cackle, laughing so hard tears sprang from my eyes. "Willow?" I exclaimed. This was _unbelievable_!

"Yes, Willow. What's so funny? I just thought perhaps named after me. Will. Willow. Makes sense, no?"

"No!" I roared holding my side. I was in stitches. "Named after you?! No! Val Kilmer! You know, Madmartigan! Joanne Whalley! Willow! My second favorite 80s movie!" I couldn't believe I would name my child after one of my favorite films! The idea alone was insane and sounded crazier than Will did!

Will snickered. "So that's it? George Lucas's Willow! Can't believe I forgot that one."

"Are you going to mock me now?"

"God no, I just want to kiss you. Can I kiss you now? Please?"

I giggled acknowledging that I hadn't been much out of bed and certainly had been lax about my hygiene in the past week. "You do so at your own risk," I advised.

I gotta hand it to him though – a sweet peck on the lips. Probably a wise choice to go that way. Very wise.

By this point, I was hooked on his dreams. And I wanted to know everything about these little girls. "What were they like?" I curiously asked as I widened my eyes and pursed my lips eager for more information.

"Who? O_ur dream daughters?" _

"Yeah," I nodded crinkling my nose. I didn't think I could fall any harder or more in love with Will Traynor than I already had, but as _fate_ would have it, I could and I did, and I fell in love with the idea of having little ones … with Will.

"They were _beautiful_, Clark!" Will gushed as he looked directly at me, grinning from ear to ear as he pictured them in his mind's eye.

Just to observe his reaction to describing them, to remembering them, I knew how much he loved the them, how much he wanted to be a dad, and it brought back a memory of him the first time he visited my attic. There he had mentioned that he felt like a changed man, that the one thing he wanted most from life was to be a father, but not just any father I came to understand from our conversation tonight – but a father to _our _children. I was a sappy mess as I listened to him talk about Charley and Willow. He closed his eyes and smiled as he recalled them vividly.

"Charley looked like me and was quite intelligent, had my sarcastic sense of humor, and loved chess and football. She was a savant in business too. Oh, and she loved to tease Willow who was younger. Willow looked just like you, Clark. Big blueberry eyes, dark hair. Artistic and dramatic, she loved clothes and acting. We used to play Candy Crush together as she sat on my lap. The girls would always compete for my attention too. Who would help feed me. Who would hold my hand with the only 2 usable fingers I had. I loved reading to them and telling them stories, and they used to snuggle with me in bed, one on either side. I loved them with my whole heart and soul, Clark. When I saw you for the first time in my dream, you had yelled at them for pouncing on me. You thought they'd hurt me in my condition. You had one rule – be careful with Dad. I lied to you to cover for them, but you just stood there and called me on my bs with a single look. I'll never forget. You had your hair in one braid hanging to the side like you did at the stadium, and you were wearing this printed skirt. White knee- length, vibrant red anchors and blue fish."

"I have that skirt!" I exclaimed, climbing out of bed and rummaging through a drawer of old clothes I couldn't wear for one reason or the other but hadn't the heart to discard of them for sentimental reasons until I found _it_. I held the skirt against my body and pointed to a large stain. "I saved up for so long to buy this vintage piece, and I never made it out of the house wearing it. Thomas spit up his strained carrots on it, and I couldn't ever get the stain out, no matter what I tried or did!"

I think Will was as freaked out as I was. The song, the names of _our _dream daughters, the fact that I owned this very skirt.

"I don't care how you know, just tell me more. Tell me everything, Will!"

I climbed back into bed sitting before him and learned I was a seamstress as well, that Will was not a pervert for suggesting to fasten strappy ties to nighties to be undone by the teeth, but rather it was _my_ idea – _my solution _to involving Dream Will, a quadraoelegic, in our not only had I given Dream Will 2 children but I had also secretly arranged for and surprised him with a service pet. Hence, the real reason why Will was involved with the service animal charity in the first place, the real reason he volunteered to raise a service dog.

"Really?"

"Yeah," he sighed then smiled with tears in his eyes. "I remember every challenge my dream self experienced. I felt compelled to do something worthy because I could."

There was also the split second in New York City where as he almost stepped down into the street he very quickly flashed back to the accident that left him in the state of his dream self and how that saved his life, saved _our future life together. _It all made sense now, his sudden visit, our day in Tenby, his willingness to just let me on top, no questions asked.

"Did you really look for me every place you went?"

"I searched for you everywhere. Elevators, supermarkets, train stations. New York, Singapore, San Francisco. From the ski slopes of France to the beaches of Spain. Everywhere."

It was so romantic. Will Traynor looked all over the world for me, Louisa Clark, waitress at the Buttered Bun, then discouraged seamstress and ignored girlfriend of triathlete Pat Miller. He who had nicknamed me Dream Clarke with an "e" because he thought I looked like one Emilia Clark. He who after his dreams abruptly stopped took to binge watching Game of Thrones just to see dream me again. It was in one word - AMAZING. "Will, how did you finally find me?"

"Like I told you at the stadium. Alicia!"

"Alicia?"

"Alicia. That story about how horrible she was to the waitress at the café here in Stortford never sat well with me, so I questioned her about it again. That's when she told me, in a very nasty way of course, that because of _my obsession_ with _EC_ and _GOT_, I would probably like that colorfully dressed Emilia Clarke doppelganger of a waitress. I had to come and see you for myself. I may not have known your name, but I knew exactly who you were at the stadium that morning. Are you mad at me, Clark, for not telling you?"

"Just the opposite," I responded. "Just the opposite."

Treena Clark's take on the topic of Will's dreams and on the many things he shouldn't have known but did was legendary. Classic Treen. "Your new boyfriend's as crazy as you are! You deserve one another!"

And so our gossipy sisterly talk really ensued after that …

"I can't believe Will gave you a job!"

"I can't believe you had sex with Mum and Dad in the house!"

A succession of giggles overtook me. I knew the truth. I had been a truly naughty girl, the attic being the scene of not one but two very satisfying sexcapades!

"I couldn't help myself! Besides, it wasn't the first time I had sex with Will _in_ _the_ _house_!"

"Jesus Christ! Who are you?!" Treena shouted.

"I'm pretty randy …," I shook my head yes several times with a devilish grin on my face. "Yeah!"

"My God, Louisa Clark! You're a sex fein!"

"You have no idea, Treen! I'm on top!"

"You're what?"

"O_n_ _top_!" I whispered as if Mum could overhear me from downstairs.

"I thought I heard you correctly! Do you even know what to do _on_ _top_?!"

"_Apparently! _Well, I needed a wee bit of help in the beginning, but I'm good now!"

"How the hell did that happen? What did he say, 'Welcome aboard, Miss Clark?'"

"Something like that! I asked, and he said yes!"

"That simple, huh?"

"Yeah," I blushed unable to look my sister in the eyes.

"Well wonders never cease!Louisa Clark on top of Will Traynor!"

We fell silent for a minute before I realized that my stone cold sister had tears in her eyes.

"What's wrong, Treen? Why the tears?"

"Did Will tell you about the old Newman's storefront?"

"The furniture store? No. That's been closed for at least 5 years now. Why? What about it?"

"He reached out to Bill Beech. Remember him?"

"Yeah, he was Dad's direct boss, the owner's son. He was a carpenter too."

"Yeah. Do you remember he wanted to start a smaller furniture company with a few of the carpenters like Dad who stayed locally but couldn't get the financing because he had no potential buyers let alone confirmed orders?"

"Sort of."

"Well, my _new_ boss made some calls and got him the financing. He could guarantee him major orders for the Castle. All handcrafted furniture."

"Will did that?!" I said choking up. He was unbelievable. I had lucked out, but I was beginning to think the village had too.

"Yeah, he wants all the furniture and woodwork done by Stortford craftsman. Even wants all the glassware made here as well. Act surprised when he tells you though. No one knows yet. Especially Dad."

"Wait. So The Beech Novelty is being resurrected?

"On a small scale, yes. Probably under a different name as well."

"Dad might go back to work?"

"Looks like it, yeah. And the best part is that Newman's was the storefront that bitch wanted for her spa!"

"No way!"

"Yep!"

"And you helped with all this?"

"I did. Just like I was instructed, I located all the foreclosures along Main Street, did the research by bank or realtor, and we consolidated where we could and made the bids. He told me I was "scrappy" and smart and that I reminded him of his secretary, Gwen."

"Oh, he LOVES Gwen. Says he could never get along with her. That's how invaluable she is to him!"

"Bet you Will Traynor will be named Young Entrepreneur of the Year!"

"Oh, Will's just trying to do right by the village. He's not doing this for some title. Trust me, he doesn't care about things like that."

"Yeah, but Patrick does!"


	57. Chapter 57

**CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN **

WILL

"I know what you're up to, Will Traynor! I figured you out!" Louisa boasted in my arms outside the outdoor ice skating rink that sat abandoned the last 6 years. It was the first on Main Street to close up shop with the faltering economy in the off-season winter months and sparked a domino effect of other establishments following in suit in the years to come, the worst of it the last 18 months . Once a prominent feature in Stortford, it lay heartbreakingly in ruins, a place where young and old met, rich and poor, parent and child, time well spent with families and friends. Louisa and I had both had our own happy memories here, her with Treena learning to skate and hanging out with friends, me with my school mates pretending to be a normal boy. The rink was mine now, and I had plans to restore it.

"You do? So what do you think I'm up to, Clark?" I whispered in her ear as I cradled her from behind and ever so gently planted a series of kisses on her head. It was our first time seen together in public in Stortford, and the villagers got an eyeful, neither me nor Louisa shy about our feelings for one another. But did shy really know what I was up to?

Just ask her already, I screamed to myself! What are you afraid of? The word no. That's what I was afraid of. Hearing her say no. Again. She had told me no in the past – no to visiting London, no to Australia. The last 5 weeks in London, Singapore, New York, and Australia were absolute hell without her. Now that I was finally home for good, the stables renovated and ready to be moved into, and the Main Street and Castle projects underway, I didn't want to spend one evening alone in the home I custom built for her. But would she leave her family, especially Thomas, for more than an evening or a weekend? Was it too soon? Should I just let things develop naturally and not force it? No, no. Just do it I told myself! Don't waste another minute!

"Well," she giggled, "I don't think you need to be a genius to figure out you're doing all this on Main Street for _Charley_ _and_ _Willow_ _Traynor_!"

God, I loved how she said their names! They weren't some figment on my imagination to her, but as real to her as they were to me.

"I am, Clark! Guilty as charged!" I smiled deciding right then and there it was best to wait until she saw the finished stables to ask. Coward, I chided myself for millionth time since meeting Louisa. I was wet, pathetic, spineless, and hopelessly in love with her like I never thought I could be with anyone. And I dreaded the word _no_ for the 3rd time.

"And don't forget about Thomas Clark," I added.

"Never," she said with misty eyes, that bond between those two of them unbreakable. When the moment was right to ask Louisa to move in with me, I intended to make sure she knew that Thomas would always be welcome in _our_ home to visit or to stay as often as he wanted or needed to, that there was more than enough room to accommodate him, that nothing needed to change.

"So, what do you think _if you and me … _ and Thomas and Treena take the first skate before we open it to the public?"

"Oh Will! Thomas would LOVE that! I know Treena would appreciate that too!"

I knew the state of Stortford the day I drove through it in September, the first time in 2 years. Its desolate shell was downright chilling, storefronts sat empty up and down Main Street. Foreclosures everywhere. The idea that the Clarks were so bad off that Louisa could disappear on me in search of settling elsewhere for work had frightened me. But the truth was that so many families were in that position. There were no jobs and little to do in Stortford. Kids like Thomas never even got to experience what Louisa and I did on the ice during our childhood let alone much of anything else here, and having a movie theater that showed month old movies and only a few at a time or a football field for their use at the local park that flooded every time it rained didn't count. "There's no bloody reason those poor kids have to travel to the park in Hailsbury by car every time they want to play," I had told Louisa. "I'm going to get the city government to fix that even if I have to sponsor the project myself and put my name on that too!" A big softie! That's what Louisa called me. "What did those _dream daughters _do to you? They already have you wrapped around their little fingers!" It was true, but then so did she.

I could imagine myself on the ice with Louisa, first with Thomas then teaching and skating with _our_ own children. Louisa was right. I _wanted _to create a Stortford for Charley and Willow, one where families not just _ours _could raise their children here, to make new memories and for future generations to come . But in order to do that, there needed to be economic growth and smart planning. With Stortford Castle Hotel and Meeting Hall as its focal point, there needed to be local flavor and charming haunts to keep patrons and visitors interested and returning. I couldn't make Stortford Castle Hotel and Meeting Hall a success without the village, and I couldn't make the village a success without the Castle. They exclusively depended on one another.

I intended on overhauling Main Street. I wanted a bustling center of commerce, a town square where the community came together again and interacted, a place for first dates and shared experiences between parents with their children. A showcase of a lively village with our distinct artisans, craftsman, musicians and delicious foods, charming haunts with local personalities like that of the famous Maribel of Tenby who made the visitor experience a rewarding one, inviting you back for future visits, and a place where kids could be kids and enjoy themselves and bond with their families.

That morning after I served up my mum and Alicia's just desserts, I was eager to turn all my attention back to Louisa and to show her my new purchases along Main Street and my plans to re-develop it. I had connections through London, and I was going to use them to get investment into the village. The ice rink was the first place I wanted to bring her, some 2 blocks from the Castle. I grabbed her hand and hurried northbound. "Where are you taking me?!" she cried following behind and giggling every step of the way in her shiny red heels that slowed her down. "Someplace special" was her only hint. "Someplace very special!"

On our trek we encountered many of our fellow villagers _en_ _route_ to the Buttered Bun for their morning rituals then off to work or to the trains. "GOOD MORNING!" I addressed each one in a resounding booming voice and a wide tooth smile as Louisa greeted them with a cheerful "HI", often acknowledging them by name, but always immediately slipping back into her giddiness once we passed them by. They were so caught off guard by seeing the two of us together, not just that we knew one another to begin with but also the intimacy that existed between us, and how curious in matching fleece jackets we must have looked that we drew some startled looks while others stopped altogether for a double-take. You could just read the confusion on their faces. _Those two know one another? But how? Since when? How long had this been going on for? And what about Running Man? (Well, they would have said Patrick!) Doesn't the Traynor boy already _have_ a girlfriend? Isn't she opening a spa? _

"I guess they're wondering what Will Traynor is doing hanging around with this short, curvy brunette," Louisa echoed loudly in a self-deprecating but humorous tone.

"No, Clark! They're all wondering why the hell Will Traynor wasted his time on tall-leggy blondes when he could have been with this stunning beauty all along! Better late than never is what they're all thinking! Better late than never."

We stood snuggling at the ice rink as I asked Louisa to picture what was in my mind's eye. "Just imagine it, Clark." And I went on to set the scene and describe it just as I envisioned it as a thriving locale. "A crowded rink, the sound of Christmas music merging together with a mirage of voices and laughter. Lovers holding hands, kids having fun skating with their friends, parents providing their little ones a hand to steadily guide them as they glide across the ice for the first time, with some encouraging words once ready to stand on their own, and a barrage of hugs and kisses drying their tears when they fall, dusting them off to try and try again and not quit defeated. Beautiful, handmade wooden benches surrounding the outline of the rink, a skate rental shop, hot pretzel and chestnut stands, seasonal carts selling ornaments and other holiday favorites, and a majestic towering Spruce just like in the rink's heyday with matching Christmas garlands, lights and wreaths hanging up and down Main Street."

"Wow! You've seriously given this a lot of thought, Will. I can see it just as you described!" she choked out getting emotional over the stark differences in imagery from it's current state.

"I'm not done yet, Clark. Look, here." I turned us around on an angle to face a string of empty storefronts, and with her still firmly within my embrace, I leaned forward and softly spoke into her ear.

"I'm hoping to lure the chocolatier, dance studio and flower shop from the isolated outskirts of town and relocate them diagonal from here, opposite the bank and post office next door. AND … what do you think about a bookstore directly across from the ice rink?"

"A bookstore? From where?"

"London."

"London?"

"Hampstead to be exact. I just so happen to know the owners who always talk about setting up a second site but haven't found the perfect location. I think I've found them one right here in Stortford. You should see this bookstore, Clark."

Her face was full of wonderment, mesmerized by the potential that I saw that lay in waste, hoping and wishing for it to be true, comforted by the idea it could become true.

"It's mainly a children's book shop with a little section for bestsellers and new releases for adults. The perimeter is lined with tall bookshelves and shorter ones in the middle with books for every aged child. There's even a small boutique area for toys and stuffed animals, many of which are the characters from the books they sell. Madeline. Pete the Cat. Harry Potter. Quidditch jerseys even, small figurines."

"Ooooooooo! Thomas absolutely loves …,"

I finished her sentence for her. "Harry Potter! I know, Clark. You've told me," I grinned from ear to ear. I liked to please her, to make her happy, to surprise her. There was something else I knew would warm her heart as well. "You know they have sorting ceremonies and Hogwart's "house" parties for the kids too."

"Really? Thomas would be thrilled!"

"It's really cozy and inviting. They always have freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and other biscuits available and these little sofa areas where you can rest and peruse books from. They hold storytelling events for kids and author meet and greets, birthday parties in their back room."

"It sounds magical!"

"It is, Clark, especially seeing mums and dads with their small children choosing novels and sitting on their laps at storytime."

"What's its name, Will?"

"The Little Book Shop," I smiled remembering every detail of it.

"Sounds like you know it well?" she inquired curiously gleefully smiling.

"I do. I used to wander into it whenever I would dream of Charley and Willow. You know Thomas absolutely would love it! I'm convinced of it."

"Yes, and so would _Charley_ _and_ _Willow_! Am Iright_?_" she teased giggling. "So did Dream Will have fun making them?"

"Dream Will wouldn't know," I regrettably quipped, if only Clark knew the lengths our dream selves went to have children. "They were apparently made in a lab, if memory serves me right!"

"Well, I _think_ I can guarantee _Real_ Will will have some _real_ _fun_ this time around!"

"You _think _or you _know_, Clark_?" _

"_Oh, I know! I know!" _she ardently gloated, her animation eliciting all sorts of physical responses in me.

"Well, what do you have in mind?"

She didn't need to respond in words to understand her. Her roaring giggles told me everything I was in for, and I couldn't wait for the day.

"I'll be there with whistles and bells!" I promised, squeezing her tightly.

"Will you now, Will Traynor?"

"Just say the word, Clark," I whispered, kissing her cheek.

"I will," she blushed speaking in a hushed voice. "I will."

I knew I would have to work quickly with no time to waste if I expected to make these changes by Christmas. My wish – to have a Tree Lighting Ceremony at the newly restored ice rink coincide with the grand openings of the relocated shops as well as The Little Book Shop.

"Do you think it's possible, Will? Christmas is in 2 months!"

I leaned in for a kiss then uttered, "I do, Clark. I really do. The city inspector and engineer are coming tomorrow to let me know just how much work I'll have to do, especially safety issues with the rink in its delabitated condition. As for the ice I've already called several companies for estimates. And once Gwen arrives next week and Treena begins to understudy her, we'll be able to setup an office on Main Street – the storefront right next to the Buttered Bun – and I'll be able to split the work load between them."

"I still can't believe you hired my sister!"

"I didn't do it for you, Clark. I did it because she showed a lot of potential, more potential than I've seen in some time. She's a quick study – diligent, fast, and shrewd. I need that to pull off the 2 projects. And besides, she's a villager. She has a stake in what happens to this town. She _wants_ it to be a success."

Louisa nodded her head in agreement. "You won't be sorry for hiring Treen."

"I'm sure of it too. And she'll learn all she needs to about real business practice, contracts, and marketing from me, Gwen and John in the field unlike her studies in the classroom. If I'm right about her, Clark, I'm hoping that once the merchants move in, she'll be able to manage its day-to-day affairs, build and maintain a website for Main Street and its social media, and even coordinate and advertise for its events and fairs."

"Oooooooooooo! That would mean so much to Treen as a single mum and for Thomas and his future. She might even be able to send him to a private school."

For so long I thought that I had not only lived up to my potential but exceeded it, but I was wrong. There was so much left for me to accomplish, and I was just getting started.

"You know, Clark, Gwen always tells me I'm the best boss she's had, that I've been a great teacher to our new hires and how much they've learned from my experience and guidance over the years. I'm seriously thinking of going to Treena's uni to setup a few internships for business majors living in Stortford. Interview them, see who would be a good fit, give them some real world business experience like Treena. Get Treena some credit hours as well. What do you think?"

She stepped out of my embrace to face me, touched and amazed by my intentions. "Really, Will? So many people would benefit from an opportunity like that! Some older people too who have returned to school to change careers. You're just …well, you're just the best man I know, Will Traynor!" she cooed smiling in awe of me.

Her countenance suddenly changed like a flash before my eyes. Her eyes grew saucer-like, both obsessive and dreamy and laser focused on me. I knew that look from the early morning hours in her attic after our chat.

"Sex?" she stammered, taking a gulp and nodding her head. "I'd like to … I'd like to have sex _now_ _please_. Like right _NOW!_"

"Yeah sure, Clark! Ok," I nodded back furiously all too willing to comply with whatever she had in mind. All too willing …


	58. Chapter 58

**CHAPTER 58**

"FIVE!" Louisa exclaimed.

"Five what, Clark?"

"FIVE glorious times we've made love, Will!"

"You're counting?" I sarcastically asked as I chuckled.

"God yeah! Twice on the lawn of the Castle and twice in my attic! Now here. _First_ time here!" she gloated before making a stunning announcement. "One of my goals is to make love to you so much, so often that I forget the number of times _we've been together_!"

"Dear God, Clark! You're out of your mind crazy!"

"Yeah, but you love me for it, right?" she grinned devilishly, already knowing the answer.

She was correct. "I do love you, yes! Every silly bit of you," I grinned back, pulling her towards me for another passionate kiss as she lie atop me naked in what would be her walk- in closet.

"So, my mum wanted me to invite you over for dinner tonight, but my dad …my dad was like," she laughed then impersonated a man's voice as best she could. "'Josie, they can have dinner here anytime. I'm sure they want to spend some time alone on Will's first day home!'"

I couldn't help but burst into laughter over her man voice resembling something reminiscent of Homer Simpson, a bumbling drone of a fool complete with head bobbing to perfect the performance. "Your man voice is terrible, Clark! But your dad was right! So tell me, how _do_ _you_ want to celebrate my finally being home?"

"I think I just did, Will!" she giggled uncontrollably.

Yes, _that_ certainly qualified as a celebration.

After our morning jaunt on Main Street, we made a mad dash to the only place we could truly be alone and undisturbed – the finished renovated stables filled with nothing more than unopened boxes of purchases to fill the space, purchases that all came from Louisa's wish list under the guise of helping me decorate my new living quarters. Being the sarcastic arse I was, I felt inclined to play a cruel joke on her – offer her a tour of the renovated stables _first_ – and watched for her animated and quite comical reaction as I tried to maintain a straight face the whole time. "What? NOOOOOOOOOO!" she cried appalled by the thought of waiting. "Absolutely NOT! NO!" Louisa _had_ _insisted_ _sex first_ before taking a tour of the renovated stables. "I want to take my time and take it all in," she convincingly argued. "You can't possibly expect me to do that with sex on my brain, can you?! Let's get that out of the way first, shall we? Yes?"

She had explicitly instructed me to bring along my cashmere blanket from my car and with her eyes closed lead her directly to the walk-in closet, to the wall of crown molding she had heard so much about. "Oh Will!" she exclaimed, stunned upon seeing it for the first time. "It's completely overwhelming! No one's … no one's ever … quick, _take_ _off_ all your clothes NOW!" I did what I was told at lightning speed. She watched intently fully dressed, and with her eyes pinned wide open, her eyebrows flickered with interest at my sudden and furious movements as I undressed. She quietly stammered on about some position she said she read about. "Sit with your legs crossed, and I'll wrap my legs and arms around you." Her voice said slow and sensual but her eyes said something else altogether. Rabid. Ravenous. Wild. Possessed. She removed every article of her clothing with an exact measuredness, then emitted a few giggles as she hung her shiny red pumps on the crown molding before lunging at me _and_ on top of me for what was anything _but_ slow and sensual lovemaking. Our passionate cries reverberated in the large walk-in closet that with only her red shoes hanging on the wall was as empty as the rest of the annex to Granta House. Afterwards as she lay on top of me just as she had done in the early morning hours in her attic, I tried to cover her body with the remainder of the blanket we lay upon, but she refused. "No, don't. I just want to lie here naked with you with no one else around."

"Clark, this closet is yours, you know," I gently reminded her, hoping to ease my way into asking her to move in with me. "You can fill the whole wall with your collection of colorful and eclectic shoes."

She lifted her head off my chest and looking up at her red shoes remarked, "Mmmm! They certainly do look good there, don't they?"

"They do, Clark. They really do." I nervously waited for her to respond, but after a long, silent and very awkward pause passed, I abandoned my current course of action that wasn't obviously working for me. That's when the most divine idea struck me. The key to the stables already rest in a gift box embellished with a gold bow on top. I would hide it and let her run loose looking at the finished stables for the first time while simultaneously searching each room for her surprise.

"Four, Will. That's what I want!" she suddenly announced unbeknownst to me what she was talking about.

"Now it's 4! Ok, Clark. Four of what?" I smiled humoring her and played along, lowering my eyes with one halfway open to meet hers. She propped herself up on my chest, and staring directly into my eyes broke out into her raving mad woman grin I had come to know and love about her. Expect the unexpected, I thought. Here we go again. What exactly was going on in that crazy mind of hers this time?

"Pay attention, Will Traynor!" Louisa playfully mocked me as she placed a single kiss on my lips. "Children, of course."

"Plan on keeping me _very_ _busy_?!"

"YES, VERY! Three girls and a sweet little boy just like Thomas, all my own. You know sometimes I wish I could just keep Thomas for myself. Do you think Treen might go for that?"

"Unfortunately, I think your sister would probably have a few words to say about that, Clark!" I gingerly teased her, squeezing her tightly in my arms to soothe her mind.

Louisa knew it was the truth and admitted as much. "You're probably right. I know you are."

"Then you must also know you'll always have a special place in his life, right?"

"Yeah, I know," she agreed, nodding her head with a weak smile that grew brighter and brighter with each second until she could no longer control her urge to share. "William James Trayor, but we'll just call him Jamie. Charlotte, Willow, Gemma and Jamie."

"So you've named the other two I see?"

"I have!" she bragged, grinning from ear to ear. "You've named the first two, so I've taken it upon myself to name the others!"

"Yes, Clark; only, I didn't name them don't forget. They just appeared in my dreams already named, and I have no connection to a Charlotte or a Grace, and Willow is not one of my favorite movies of all time."

"Yeah, but the names came from _your _dreams, so I'm gonna name the others, ok?"

She had me wrapped around her finger, and I couldn't deny her anything. "Charlotte, Willow, Gemma and Jamie it is."

"My 4 little nuggets! We're going to fill up the whole place!" she cooed as she kissed and traced kisses along my chest, every so often lifting her head and grinning bashfully as she spoke.

"Nuggets?"

"YES! Nuggets! Did you know, Will, I once worked at a chicken nugget factory? After the hair cutting thing didn't quite work out. Before I got my job at the Buttered Bun."

"Dear God, Clark!" I stopped her from saying more. "Am I going to want to hear this? Or _ever_ eat chicken nuggets again in the future?"

Louisa continued on as if she couldn't stop herself from divulging some grotesque facts at my expense. "I had nightmares for 2 weeks straight!"

"Clark!" I shouted unable to control my laughter. "You talk about some the weirdest things after sex. Did you know that?"

She completely ignored me, which only made me brace myself for more.

"Do you want to know how they make nuggets? No, seriously I know. I CAN tell you! IT STILL GIVES ME CHILLS TO THIS DAY!"

"NO! That's quite OK, Clark! I don't need to know, I only care how we'll make _our_ nuggets!" I drew her in for a long passionate kiss with one hand behind her head, messing up her hair in the process, all to avoid more chicken nuggets factory chitchat.

"Will, can you … hmm … can you … you know … so soon again?"

"Right now?" I inquired, surprised at her 2nd request as I watched her eyes grow saucer-like again.

"Mhm!"

"You're insatiable, Clark!" I belly laughed as she shrugged. "You realize we just finished making love only 10 minutes ago?"

"Uh huh!" she nodded her head then began to stutter. "You can't um …? Um …. I never had to …. um … you know, ask after let alone um … you know so soon after … with … you know … Pat. I was honestly relieved when he was … you know … done! That face he used to ….," she grimaced amusingly.

"OH MY GOD, CLARK! No Running Man talk! Remember?"

"Oh sorry," she winced then went on to hesitantly question me . "Will?"

"Yes, Clark?"

"Was I too rough with you before?

"NO! But real life is not like the movies, Clark. Let's just take that tour of the stables first," I suggested doing my best to encourage her to tour the structure, all the while secretly thinking of an ideal place to stash the gift box.

"Yeah, ok!" she responded bumbling and embarassed but still looking hopeful. "Later then?"

"YES, definitely!" I answered her as I began to slide back into my boxer briefs and t-shirt then reached for my jeans.

"Oh … um … that's enough clothes, yeah? Leave the jeans off," she said giggling, hinting at more of a celebration to come.

I blushed as I threw my jeans back onto the floor and wrangled Louisa to her feet, grabbing my fleece jacket and helping her into it to cover her naked body to wear as she roamed the halls of _our _new home. I took her in my arms and kissed her deeply, and with a smirk and pursed lips I told her to wait there for me. "Don't move. I'll only be a minute. I have a surprise for you!"

She giggled rhythmically, biting her lip and beaming. "Another surprise, Will Traynor?"

"Another surprise!" I reiterated kissing her gently on her forehead. "Stay here."

I grabbed the small gift box from my bags in the open kitchen area and quickly hid it in the double bathroom vanity, the one furnishing she most coveted since her days visiting her aunt in Tenby, and headed back to _her_ walk-in closet to retrieve her for an important and impromptu scavenger hunt!


	59. Chapter 59

**CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE**

I didn't know who had had more fun. Louisa running amuck through the renovated stables for the first time or me observing her in pure unadulterated delight?

When I returned from strategically hiding the keys to the stables, I found Louisa in a private moment adoringly gazing at the crown molding, moving her shiny red pumps from space to space and from level to level, smiling as it sunk in that THIS was indeed hers. I didn't want to get my hopes up, but if this moment I spied on was any indication, then I thought there at least was a chance she might say yes this time. However, I braced myself for the word no or an answer of not yet, followed by a hard conversation for me to hear as she explained that she either wasn't ready to leave her family or that maybe it was all too soon, too new of a relationship to make such a risky move. In both scenarios, I would have to wait and see how things developed to ask again at unspecified date at an unspecified time and endure my own hell if I didn't want to appear too pushy or impatient and ruin a solid foundation we had already built. I was expecting it to play out exactly so if the recent past had any bearing, and although I had clung to the slightest chance she would say yes as I had done before I hoped this time would be different.

"Ready?" I asked interrupting her as she moved her red heels back to its first position. "I am!" she responded, wide-eyed and bursting with excitement. And so her scavenger hunt began. "Ooh!" she kept cooing from its very start beginning with the sight of the picturesque Castle from the adjoining room, the master bedroom. "Unbelievable!" she gasped becoming emotional at the view. As I watched Louisa, I longed to wake up next to her in bed, with the sun coming up from the Castle's horizon, streaming in and illuminating her face. I longed to make mad, passionate love to her set against the backdrop of the Castle in the moonlight. And I longed for her to respond yes with every fiber of my being.

Dressed in only my fleece jacket and with her hair rumbled from our most recent rousing lovemaking session, she scampered from room to room with reckless abandon, so giddy with a smile so bright that I knew I had done well and couldn't help but feel satisfied by my efforts. From the architecture and the stainless steel appliances to the flooring, kitchen cabinets, marble countertops and subway tile, she had a comment for everything! "I love it!" "Oh beautiful!" " No way?! Real mahogany floors?!" "I've never seen such cabinet space!" "I've always loved kitchen islands!" "Real shiplap! So pretty!" "The oven works with Alexa?! Seriously?" And she looked in every cabinet, drawer and nook and cranny for the gift, leaving no stone unturned. "Is it in here?" she playfully inquired as she checked the washer and dryer in the laundry room that doubled as the back entrance. "Maybe the fridge? No. Oh, I know! The oven! No. What _about _the dish washer? Hmm? No." Louisa looked around the main room, settling on the front courtyard. "Perhaps out there?" she teased giggling while making a mad dash out the double french doors. "Oh blast! It's cold!" But she soon became easily distracted outdoors. "Ooooooo! Is that a fire pit?!" I had to remind her that she was wearing almost next to nothing. "It's not out there!" I insisted. "Now come back in before you catch a chill!" Yet she was so captivated by that bloody fire pit that I had to pick her up and carry her back indoors. "But!" she objected. "No, buts. There's more than enough things to obsess over inside where it's warm, Clark!"

"Rotten thing to do, Will Traynor!"

She only forgave me when I promised her that yes, we would make love on the patio just as she wished, underneath the stars, and with a roaring fire and lots of blankets, not just any blankets but the plush fur type she clarified for future reference. "Note taken!" I replied.

Louisa then ran into the most logical room next, the closest one nearby. The bath. She quickly forgot all about the fire pit when her eyes instantly fell on the double vanity. _The_ _double_ _vanity_. Forget captivated or mesmerized, she was so completely taken by it that she fell into a trance and was unaware that I had called her name twice. I laughed sinfully at her as she obliviously ran her hands seductively across its gray and white marble counter top without uttering a word. With her mouth agape and her eyes laser focused and looking possessed, she slid her fingers across the sleek necks of the nickel faucets, caressing each from top to bottom moving on to the matching modern flute handles as the mirror adjoined to the piece magnified her reflection and with it every sensual yet comical movement she made.

"Louisa? Louisa you're making me quite uncomfortable!" I sarcastically quipped as I grinned from ear to ear with no response in sight.

"Louisa?"

"Uh huh," she finally mumbled still not paying attention.

"Louisa, the way you're fondling the vanity is making me quite jealous. Should I give you two some time alone?"

"Whaaat?"

I repeated myself, hoping to startle a reply out of her. "Should I give you and the vanity some alone time together?"

She turned around immediately as startled as I had hoped her to be. "I'm sorry. You say something?"

"Yessssss," I sang out laughing. "I'm quite jealous, Clark, with the way you've been fondling the vanity. You don't even seem to manhandle me like that!"

"Oh Will!" Louisa cried out as she proceeded to tease and balk at me, shaking her head in disbelief over my silliness. "Jealous? Don't be ridiculous! It's you I prefer of course!"

"That's not the vibe I was just getting from your private little exchange, you understand. I felt like I was eavesdropping or worse, that I was a voyeur."

She held her hand over her heart and spoke through giggles. "It won't happen again."

"Oh, it wont happen again you say? I'm simply to believe you?" I joked with my arms crossed as I lifted one eyebrow and looked suspiciously at her.

"YES!" she emphatically exclaimed. "Why is it so hard to believe?"

"It's just that I've known you to have such _little_ willpower ….," I stopped mid-sentence looking at her waiting for a witty comeback.

She immediately protested, mouthing the word "wow" as she feigned hurt feelings, and stumbling over her words responded as her voice cracked. "Whaat? _Little_ willpower? How … how can you say that about me, Will Traynor?"

"Do I have to remind you what just happened in the walk-in closet, hm?" I had her, and she knew it! I smirked gloating as she turned a shade of baby pink and lowered her eyes away from mine, puckering her lips into a tiny grin that gave her away.

"I'm eager is all," she playfully defended herself with a smile curling on her lips although she still was unable to look at me.

"Eager?" I laughed. "That's not _exactly _how I would describe it!"

"Will Traynor, you really are an impossible man! AND I was _just _admiring the vanity before, not _manhandling_ it for your information. It's just … it's just so beautiful, almost … _almost _ like the one my aunt had in Tenby!"

"I know. Why do you think it's here, Clark?"

Louisa looked up at me and blushed again smiling. She was slowly beginning to accept the fact that I would always spoil her, that it was my job in life to do so and yes my duty to make her feel that special and as loved as possible. She simply could not stop me. That's how much I loved and adored her.

"Now I THINK if you look closer, you might _find_ something _extra_ _special_ about it!"

"Nooooooooooooooo! Really? You hid it in there?!"

She furiously looked through each drawer of the vanity until finding it in the lower left cabinet. "Oh, lovely!" she cheerfully cooed, then wriggled her fingers as she beamed before opening the gift box to find a pair of keys. She held them up and dangled them in front of her eyes. "Oooooooooooo, Will!"

I was paranoid she would say no again. I could feel myself breaking out into a cold sweat and a lump developed in my throat as I fought to get my words out.

"Don't say anything yet, Clark!" I requested of her as she stared back at me in shock. "So I know we've only known one another for a short time, but ….,"

"Yes!"

Did my ears deceive me? "Yes?" I repeated just to make sure.

"Uh huh!" she nodded her head continuously in the affirmative with her eyes pinned open wide, her eyebrows suspended in her forehead. "Yeah!"

"What about Thomas?"

"Thomas? Yeah, we'll work everything out. Uh huh!"

"Are you sure, Clark? I don't want you to regret…"

"Noooooooo! No regrets. I want to be here with you. I know … I know how empty my life was without you in it for the past week when I thought we were broken up, and I couldn't imagine a life without you, Will."

"Yeah, I know, but that was different, Clark. That was my mum's doing. All fabricated. I'm here in Stortford now, and we're not separated by distance like in London or by me traveling anymore."

"Will Traynor! Are you trying to talk me into moving in with you or talk me out of it?"

"Just trying to be practical. Cover all my bases. I wouldn't want you to end up resenting me in a few …,"'

"Nooooooo, no. Of course, I wouldn't. I would never. My answer's still yes. My regret would be _not _saying yes."

"Are you positive?" I could feel the tears of joy welling up in my eyes. She didn't say no but repeatedly said yes this one time.

"Yes, 100% I'm quite sure this is exactly where I want to be! From now on, where you are I am!"

"And you know Thomas is always welcome here, day or night. We have plenty of room."

"I already know that, Will! I never once doubted your offer didn't include Thomas or any other Clarke. Remember I told you I would never doubt you again. I know how much … how much you love me. You just need to look around here to know."

I wasn't the only one with tears in my eyes. "You thought I was going to say no, didn't you?" she inquired guessing right.

"I did, Clark." I admitted truthfully. "It's just that you said no to visiting in London and traveling with me to Australia."

"Well, you can finally thank your mum for something!" Louisa stated matter of factly. "She really put things in perspective for me." In lightning speed her appearance changed quickly. Oh dear Lord! The raving mad woman look! Here we go again, I thought. Expect anything, and I planned on enjoying every damn millisecond of it.


	60. Chapter 60

**CHAPTER SIXTY**

"Priorities, Will! Priorities!" Louisa wanted to go back to _her_ walk-in closet. "Please," she begged with a cheeky look on her face as she held her new keys tightly.

"There's so much more to see, Clark. You really don't want to have a look at the rest of the rooms first?"

"No, I'm pretty sure I want to have sex again! Come on." She grabbed my hand and pulled me from the bath into the main room. I came to a complete stop next to the kitchen island and laughed heartily watching Louisa try to yank me further across the main room towards the master bedroom without any success. Instead, I gave her a soft yank towards me so that she landed up against my chest, and looking down at her, leaned forward and gently kissed her knowing what came next – another surprise I had in store for her, one built into the structure for her use, one I had no doubt she would squeal over! I licked my lips and grinned taking my time before speaking. "So then you don't want to see _your_ studio? _Your_ workroom?"

Louisa's eyes bulged comically. For a second she was speechless until she began to fumble over her words. "Whaaaat? A workroom? A studio? Here? For me?"

"No, a studio for someone else in our home! Yes, YOU Clark!"

"Nooooo?"

"Yessssss!" I laughed. "Just beyond the hallway off the kitchen! It's larger than your little space in the attic!" Louisa ran off like the speed of light, and once through the hall, turned the wrong way. I shook my head smirking and sauntered my way to her exact location, finding her standing in the largest of 3 bedrooms and gawking at the room's 2 sets of closets on either end and the chandelier that hung above in the center.

"This isn't it, Clark," I whispered slinking my arm around her waist and cradling her from behind.

"I know," she gushed. "It's Charley and Willow's bedroom from your dreams, isn't it?"

"Right down to the fancy crystal chandelier. That was your idea you know. I looked high and low for it until I found an exact replica."

"But how can you be so sure that we'll have… ?"

"I can't be, and we can always change it if need be. But remember I did find you." I snuggled her close to my body like I had done so many times before, gently swaying her in my arms, and sweeping her hair to one side, I began to kiss her neck as she giggled and squirmed.

"You definitely did, that's for sure. You know I can just imagine this room, big enough for _both_ a bedroom _and_ a playroom. Twin beds on each side of the window with frilly pink curtain … oh and an end table between them. Matching bedspreads and lots of pillows. Different pink patterns everywhere, and tons of stuffed animals and dolls all over. A little table for tea and art maybe right there. I love it!"

Louisa Clark never failed to embarrass me but also never failed to make me choke up. The way she envisioned the girls' bedroom was exactly how it looked in my dreams. I did my best from memory to recreate it. "It had to be perfect," I told architect Karen Bates. The room's specifications had to be, as Louisa described it, big enough for a bedroom for 2 little girls that doubled as a playroom. I sketched it as best I could from memory for a man not at all artistically inclined. It had gone through several drafts before Karen got it right.

"I'm glad you do, Clark. Everything I do is for you."

Louisa turned suddenly looked up at me with an inquisitive look on her face. "Will? Can I ask you a question?"

"I suppose you will anyway if I say no, right?" I joked, giving her a tickle to bring some levity to her serious sounding question. "Ask away, Clark? I've nothing to hide."

"I've been thinking about this a lot since you told me about your dreams. Do you know what made you dream _of_ _me_? I mean … did something happen to you before you started dreaming? Maybe on that day?"

"To answer truthfully, I don't," I whispered into her ear, brushing my face against hers. " All I remember is that Alicia woke me up because I had been singing the Molahonkey song of all things in my sleep to which she totally excoriated me for it and that I just knew you were the one I was in love with. Nothing out of the ordinary really happened to me in the days or months leading up to it of any that I can recall. It wasn't like I had a near death experience or had been ill or on medication. The only thing that was going on was the stressful Carmichael merger, but all mergers can be that stressful. But if I think of anything I'll certainly share it with you, ok?."

"Ok," she answered in a hushed voice. "I was curious. I am curious."

"I know. But you should also know that from the very first time I dreamed of you, my whole life took a seismic shift. The most important thing to me became finding you."

"Did you really leave Alicia alone on your holiday to scour the beaches and resorts for me?"

"I did," I proudly chuckled placing a delicate kiss on the side forehead. "She was none too happy with me, but back then you could have been anywhere in the world back then and I was desperate to find you. I was in one word _miserable_, especially when you disappeared from my dreams. Just an absolute mess. It was just me, Pesto and binge watching Game of Thrones to get me through my days. "

Louisa suddenly began to shift her eyes from side to side with an emerging naughty smile curling on her lips, and I knew within seconds I would hear all about her latest crazy thoughts.

"Soooooooo, Will? Tell me. W_ho_ is better in bed? Dream Clark or me?" she playfully asked shooting me her eyes sideways to meet mine.

"Seriously, Clark?"

"Yeahhhhhh," she sang out. "I'm waiting."

"You, naturally."

She pressed her lips together and gave me a suspicious look. She wasn't buying my answer and teased me for choosing the obvious. "Of course you would say the real girl, Will Traynor! Now tell me the truth. I can handle it."

"You," I laughed. "Really."

"Oh yeah, why? Hmm?"

She was too silly sometimes and too adorable for words.

"Because, Clark, I've never felt closer to another human being in my life. And did I mention you're quite insatiable and bossy?"

She cringed momentarily. "Oh, I know. I have _absolutely no_ _idea_ where that's coming from. Sorry. Do you mind?"

"God no, Clark. Let's just say your aggressiveness is quite lovely!"

"Really? You don't mind me … you know …?"

"No, one of your best qualities! And you're quite comical when you're bossy too. I never know what to expect, but I know I'll enjoy it emsensely nonetheless! No one could ever accuse you of being boring, Clark!"

"Well, I think Pat would disagree!"

"Errrrr … Running Man! I don't give too much thought about his opinions and neither should you. I don't think he brought out the best in you!"

"No," she giggled naughtily. "He certainly didn't. Only a truly _special_ man _with some _special and _rare _talentscould_!" _

"Exactly, Clark!" And there I was blushing again nodding my head in agreement.

"Just how many bedrooms are there, Will?"

"Three including this one," I softly spoke resuming nibbling on her neck. "The other 2 are half this size with closet space as well."

"One is Thomas's!" she happily declared still giggling with my every kiss.

"That goes without saying. Absolutely!"

"And _my studio? Where_ is it?_" _

"This way." Hand in hand, I walked Louisa down the hall to the long room with a picturesque window that extended the length of the entire kitchen to the back wall of the stables. I thought I had found my calling in life. And yet it was my dreams that gave me my first taste of real satisfaction. I thought I was living life to its fullest, but I thought wrong. I had fallen in love with dream Clark, but I had fallen faster and harder with the real one. She was my whole reason for waking up in the morning, and I was devoted to making her smile.

"Will Traynor!" she exclaimed beaming and drumming her legs in place excited over her new place to sew. "This is HUGE! And look at all that light from the window!"

"Do you like it?"

"Who wouldn't? You are the kindest, most generous _AND _thoughtful man _EVER! _I mean … are you _even _real? I feel like I'm the one living in a dream now!"

"Did I do good, Clark?"

"GOOD? IT'S _PERFECT! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! I LOVE IT! I LOVE IT ALL!" _

She leapt atop me and kissed me passionately before with misty eyes admitting to me that she also felt ashamed that she believed my mum. "I'll never … I mean never … take her word … anyone's word over yours. _EVER EVER AGAIN! I MEAN IT!"_

"Shhhhhh. I know, Clark. If it makes you feel any better my mum was quite the convincing barrister before becoming a magistrate."

"Maybe, but I feel stupid."

"Don't, she preyed on you." I didn't want to dwell on my mum. I wanted to move forward so I quickly changed the subject. "Look, Clark. You can bring those closet pieces your dad made for your attic and line them up against that wall over there, and I've already ordered you a few large crafting tables like the smaller one you have now."

"You are simply too much! Are there any other surprises I should know about?"

"Maybe. Yeah. No, definitely. It's a big one. I didn't want to say anything until I knew for sure, but I received the confirmation this morning before I picked you up. I was able to guarantee a substantial order for your dad's old boss. The Castle and the ice rink."

"I already know. Even about the old Newman location. Treena. She didn't know if it would come off or not."

"Do you and Treena share _everything_?"

"Pretty much, yeah!" she uttered bashfully.

"So she knows about our …?

"Yeah," she nodded embarassed but delighted at the same time. "_EVERYTHING! Sorry, she's my sister!"_

Oh God, I thought! How would I ever look at Treena again knowing she knew what Louisa and I did in bed?

"Do you think my dad knows?"

"Bill was going to call his old workers some time this morning, so I suspect he does or at least he will soon."

"I can't believe my dad's going to be go back to work! It's going to be a very Merry Christmas for a lot of us this year. You know there's not even much trick-or-treating because people don't have the extra cash for candy and stuff. Just classroom parties, which I guess is fun enough."

"No real trick-or-treating, Clark?"

"Yeah, in the last 2 years. Kids don't even go out anymore. Sad. Treena and I loved going house to house when we were little."

"Halloween's in 3 days. What do you say you and I stage a Trunk-or-Treat after school for all the kids outside the skating rink with a sign advertising for its re- opening?"

"Really, Will? The kids will love that! Thomas will love that! Now I suggest you get that sweet arse of yours back into _my _walk-in-closet! And I'm not going to tell you twice! Now means now, so hurry yourself! Come along! Don't make me wait one second longer, Will Traynor!"


	61. Chapter 61

**CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE **

Louisa shook her head and crinkled her nose in response. "Uh-uh! Nope."

I picked up my cell phone and checked the time again. "No, Clark, really!" I laughed. "You have to get off me. The furniture's coming in half an hour."

"Not ready to get off you just yet, Will! " She nestled her naked body against mine, lifting her head up from under my chin and began to sway her shoulders back and forth humming "Toot toot, hey, beep beep" while peckering kisses on my lips and giggling.

"You are not, Clark! Are you?" Just one look at her and I knew she was.

"Yeah," she giggled more before breaking out into song_. "Bad girl/ I'm such a dirty, dirty bad girl/ yeah/beep beep/yeah/uh-huh!"_

I collapsed back onto the floor in a fit of laughter, rolling my eyes as she pressed on taking some dramatic license.

"Now you and me/ That's right Will/We're both the same/We got libidos that are insane/Now Mama Camilla won't like it when she finds out/ yeah mmm/I'm gonna be shacking up with her son every night"

"Dear God, Clark! Your're insane!"

"What's wrong with a bit of Donna Summer, the _Queen_ of Disco? Hmmm?"

"Nothing, but see. Definitely NOT boring. And as far as my mum is concerned, she can piss off! I told you that. She has no say in the matter. Now come here!"

I drew her to my lips for a long deep kiss as she continued to lay on top of me. When our lips finally parted, Louisa had a huge grin plastered across her face. "I still don't know how you manage to do that. You know … before! And before that! And last night!" she raved. "But I don't care! I'm ok with _the_ _how_ remaining a complete mystery to me as long … as long you keep up the good work, Will Traynor! _Very_ satisfactory. No, no. I mean _very_ _satisfying_. You're in no way, shape or form_ just_ satisfactory. More like _A-M-A-Z-I-N-G_! My _very_ _talented_ boyfriend! How you manage to do all that with me on top of you! _Wow_! Just wow!"

She grinned. She giggled like a hyena. She gave me the eye like a naughty, flirty girl while brushing a lock of her long hair against her lips acting like a demure bystander, although she was a fully complicit participant. "My boyfriend!" she repeated, then went full- on-dork announcing, "_My_ _sex_ _partner_!"

She never failed! I felt my skin turn crimson, blushing like a school boy! Each and every time after making love. "Now don't say it that way, Clark!" I corrected her. "It sounds _so_ tawdry!"

"Ok, fine. _MY LOVER!" _she exclaimed in the same cadence then raucously giggled again.

"What am I to do with you, Clark?"

"Just keep on doing what you've been doing!" she blurted without thinking first.

"Yeah," I nodded hardly containing my own laughter and shook my head at her silliness. "That I can do."

"Sooooooooooooo … on a _scale_ of 1 to 10, I give you … _only a 17!"_

"A 17!" I exploded. "What? Explain that one. What did I lose the three points of divine perfection for?!"

"Well, I would give you a," she cleared her throat before continuing. "I would give you _a_ _rating_ of _Beyond Expectation Not Entirely Perfect, _" she playfully teased then got all serious doing a male-in-authority-issuing-a dire -warning-voice. "But for the whole '_Don't bounce. You might hurt me or yourself and fall off!' _You lost a point right there."

I let out a deep groan knowing she would never let me win on this one. "Clark, I didn't want you to hurt yourself or me!"

"Well, I didn't," she reprimanded me as she bit her lip. "And from the looks of it, you're ok too. I only," she then lowered her voice to a complete whisper, "Bounced a _wee_ _bit_."

"You did. A wee bit. That's true until I stopped you!"

"I was just curious, you know! I just … I just wanted to try it."

All I could think of doing to spare her from feeling bad was to humor her delicately. "I know you did. Do you remember what you said when I told you not to though?"

She smirked devilishly, remaining tight-lipped and unwilling to say.

"Let me remind you. You let out a harsh and demanding, 'SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!'"

"Yeahhhhhh! I told you!"

"You certainly did!" I joked back shaking my head and wrapping my arms tightly around her. Warm. Engaging. Charming. Good-natured. Funny. Sexy. Louisa Clark was scored on my heart indeed, a woman I could not simply live without. "And what did I lose the other 2 points for?"

"That little prank you pulled on me!"

I grinned from ear to ear and burst out laughing. "Oh that!"

"Yes, THAT!" she exploded unable to keep a straight face herself.

"I really had you going there, didn't I?"

"Yes, You did! AT _MY_ EXPENSE!"

"Come on, Clark," I begged. "It was funny! Yes?"

"Funny for you maybe! You're _such_ an _arse_! Just like when you said Kat named her son after you because she couldn't get over you!"

"I was just trying to be funny then and now!" I really was! I had taken Louisa in my arms and picked her up, wrapping her legs around my waist carrying her from her new studio back to the walk-in closet and kissing her the entire way. It was only when I placed her down that the practical joke first entered my mind. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Feigning disappointment and surprise, I shocked her with my _discovery_! "Clark, we can't make love. I must have used the last of the condoms. I think I've run out." "Nooooooooooooooooo! What to you mean you're out?!" she exclaimed in a panic before gathering my clothes off the floor and stuffing them into my hands with instructions. "Well go to the drugstore now! AND be quick. Super super quick! But drive safely! Drive very, very safely BUT fast!" I was overcome with laughter the whole time, and when I finally disclosed the truth, Louisa gave me a good shove! "You arse! Don't just stand there laughing at me! Come on already! Stop wasting time! Let's get going here!" she shouted. "I've waited long enough!"

"I'm shocked I only lost 2 points for that!" I sarcastically quipped realizing that I should properly atone with sincerity although I already knew that she had forgiven me the moment she had pounced on me. "Bad joke. Really, I am truly sorry. Forgive me? Please."

I have to admit though that I did have her going there for a while. And it was rather funny. I turned my attention to something other that I really needed to discuss with her, AND there was no time like the present given the fact that she had agreed to move in with me and that this would directly affect us both. And so I readied myself for the blowback in the form of some righteous but richly- deserved mockery.

In a calm and delicate voice I brought it up. "Listen, Clark. I have a little bit of an issue."

She was suddenly alarmed. "An issue? What's wrong, Will?"

"So I don't exactly have a bed," I winced closing one eye with the other gauging her reaction.

"Like Wyoming's on backorder you mean?" she asked confused.

"No, like I didn't place the order. We don't have a bed … yet."

"_Why not?" _

"Err … so you see, I was hoping that we could take your bed from the attic here."

The mockery began immediately.

"Well well, Will Traynor! I thought you said my little queen-size bed was too small for your liking, and what was it you told me? Oh right! 'It just wouldn't do!' Am I correct?"

"Yes, I do believe that was it." No reason to deny it.

"And didn't you drive me crazy looking at obscene sized beds? Hmmmm? Making me use a measuring tape to choose one?"

"Sounds about right."

"Well, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"Well, Clark, I sort of like your cozy, _little_ bed. Very intimate. _And_ wouldn't you like to take the bed your dad built for you here?"

"Don't bring my dad into this! Tell me the truth. Hmmmm?" she prodded me, taunting me. "Tell me what really changed your mind. Come on."

"Ok, fine. Thomas, ok! It was Thomas! I knew before I left for Australia that he would definitely be spending a lot of time here with us, and I couldn't think of a good enough excuse to satisfy a curious 5 year old when he asks why our bed was so big. Ok? Happy?"

"Oh I am, Will Traynor! I ammmmmmmm!" she giggled teasing me again. "That's hilarious! You know Thomas would never stop questioning you until he got an answer he'd understand _and_ buy!"

"Tell me about it! It was that philosophical Santa debate that made me rethink things. Well?"

"Well what, _luva_?" she poked fun at me, having a grandiose time for herself. "Do I still get French toast in bed if I say yes?"

"Definitely!"

"Then sure! Why not? We have nothing else to sleep on except this blanket, do we?" she busted out with, laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes. "Thomas! You're too funny, Will! Good riddance, Wyoming! I didn't want to give up my comfy bed with _some_ _a-w-e-s-o-m-e_ memories of you naked in it anyways!"


	62. Chapter 62

**CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO **

Louisa never managed to get herself together by 3pm for our very first scheduled furniture delivery, a navy blue sofa set chosen by Louisa herself because she insisted it would accentuate the white shiplap. "Very nautical- looking! I'll make you matching pillows. Maybe anchors or seahorses, maybe both!" she exclaimed when she was under the impression she was just merely helping me decorate the renovated stables. But today she knew everything was meant for her, and even that little fact wasn't impetus enough to get her back on her feet and dressed so that she could inform the delivery men where she wanted each piece placed in the living room. "Uh-uh! You can handle it. I trust you," she grinned with her hair rumbled while poorly clutching the cashmere blanket to her chest, unbeknownst to her that her right breast was showing. "We can always rearrange them later."

Silly, sexy and sweet. She was indeed scored on my heart, the epiphany that she was so unique that it was of little wonder why I had to scour the earth to find her. And for all the teasing that I was _perfect, _it really was Louisa who was. At least perfect to me. I admired her from the doorway, my gaze falling on her exposed breast. It was just like Louisa to play coy without getting all the details right. But I realized right then and there it was the not getting all the details right that made her so perfect, so sexy, so Louisa Clark. She was irreplaceable and irresistible.

"What? Why are you staring at me like that?" Louisa asked innocently before bursting into uncontrollable giggles and pulling the blanket up to her neck, thus unwittingly also revealing her left breast as well this time.

I couldn't help but laugh as she sat with both breasts totally exposed and giggling. Whatever made me dream of her damned if I knew, but here I was with her in real time with each passing moment getting better and better than the last.

I knelt back in front of her and kissed her lips passionately, and needing one more last touch to tide me over for the next few minutes, I caressed her naked breasts to which she emitted a hiccup of a giggle.

"You hurry back," she instructed me playfully. "Just um let them dump the furniture and run back, ok?" I found myself agreeing, although that meant more work for me later moving furniture by myself, but I didn't much care. I hurried the men in and out quickly, tipping them handsomely to resume more play in the same large walk-in-closet where apparently Alicia and my mum stood days earlier arguing with my contractor to remove Louisa's crown molding from the walls. I was hypnotized by her, and there were many, many more things I wanted to do to her if she would let me. And let me she did. For the first time she allowed me to take control. "Is that your tongue?" she gasped. "Mhmmm. Do you want me to stop, Clark?" "Did I tell you to? Uh-uh! NO !" she cried out in a demanding but shaky voice.

There was no shortage of such reactions that propelled me to please her more, but in true Louisa Clark fashion they were anything but conventional. I explored her whole body, and she was quite vocal of what she liked, although sometimes not quite helpful when it came to requesting a repeat. "Can you do _that_ again?" she inquired then comically corrected my actions using unidentifiable demonstrative pronouns that kept me guessing, retracing my previous steps until I discovered the right one! "No, no! Not _that_! You know _that_ other thing!" "You mean _this_, Clark?" "No, _that. That_ other thing!" "This?" "No. No. Before then." "Ok, _that?" "Oh _Godyeah. _That_!" The guessing, which at first frustrated me, turned into a delightful adventure as it occurred over and over, and I began to have fun with it, offering Louisa alternatives to her frequently repeated requests. "Oh God, Will! What was that?!" she would squeal. "I thought perhaps you would enjoy that more, Clark!" "Yes, well," her voiced cracked, "Can you do _this _and _that _again? You know … um … if you don't mind?" "If you want me to," I answered, complying to every one of her wishes.

Time passed so suddenly that we hadn't realized that the sunlight from a small octagonal window set high on the wall had been replaced with the moonlight. Louisa was the first to notice, and shocked by how time eluded us called my attention to that very fact.

"Will! It's already dark out!"

I found myself mumbling, not unable but rather unwilling to lift my lips from her right nipple as she stroked the back of my head and played with my hair between her fingers. "Is it, Clark? I hadn't noticed."

"Have we any food?"

"None."

"None?"

"None. I flew back from Australia to London and drove directly to your home with only my luggage from my trip. Hungry?"

"Starving," she giggled then gasped, a reaction to my gently blowing on her nipple and partaking again. "Will Traynor! I really do need food you know. I really haven't um eaten much this past week as you know."

That was an easy fix or so I thought. "Do you want me to raid my mum's fridge or we can order takeout and have it delivered?" I peeked up from Louisa's chest to see what piqued her interest but neither did it seemed. Instead, her lips curled into a small smile as her eyes sparkled and danced. I knew she had other plans in mind.

I needed only to look at her, gesturing with my eyes to come out with it.

"Ok, so a burger from the King's Head Pub. You don't understand," she emphasized, "I've had a craving for the juiciest double burger all day long! I'm just salivating for one! Maybe 2!" She looked pinched, her eyebrows furrowing, hoping that I would say yes but thinking otherwise.

I closed my eyes and grinned. "If that's what you want, Clark. Then ok."

"Really?" she asked as if surprised by my answer.

"Really."

"You don't mind leaving then?"

"I suppose we have to leave at some point, yes?" I sarcastically quipped back. That was the truth. There was much to be done to move in, and we weren't going to make any progress holed up in a large walk-in-closet, although the idea of remaining there for days on end was appealing although unrealistic.

Louisa looked beyond radiant wearing the most beautiful of smiles, and casting her eyes downward at me she bit upon her lip in the most alluring of ways and cooed. "You're so good to me, Will Traynor!"

She got me so excited with that smile of hers that I was soon passionately back at her breasts forgetting all about her dinner request as she erupted in another fit of giggles.

"Will! I'm serious! I am hungry! You can pick up where you left off later."

This time I made _her_ promise.

Equipped with towels and toiletries from a guest room at Granta House, Louisa was the first to try out _our _new shower. "Oh my God, Will!" she raved about the handheld showerhead, altering its speeds and intensity. "That was heavenly!" It was my travel hair dryer she wasn't a fan of. "I guess it'll do for now." She pinned one side of her hair above her ear with the crystal starfish I bought her in London and watched as she reapplied my favorite watermelon lip gloss to her lips, the final touch to her fresh but modest makeup for our dinner at the pub. Before we departed, she checked out her reflection in the bathroom mirror one last time boasting, "There. At least I look presentable, not like I've been having sex all day, right Will?" I didn't have the heart to tell her that the satisfaction on her face and her raving giddiness indeed told the world just that. And little did I know that they would also tell Running Man at the pub that too.


	63. Chapter 63

**CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE**

We were in our own little world while waiting for a table to become available at the King's Head Pub. Cuddling in a corner, we simply couldn't keep our hands off of one another. Just one look at us and you'd know exactly what we had been up to all day.

We were loud and in love and unafraid and unapologetic about showing it. We whispered in one another's ears and exchanged private jokes which she so adorably crinkled her nose and cackled at. And there was lots of kissing. Long and slow, short and affectionate, even some French kisses, kisses that were initiated by the both of us.

Her touch drove me crazy. The way she braced my arms to pull herself up to leave gentle kiss after kiss on my lips. The way she hung her arms around my neck, softly stroking my hair and staring deeply into my eyes, telling me she loved me over and over as she beamed. I drew her to me, my hands – concealed by the length of my fleece jacket she wore on her tiny frame – rested on her backside as I pressed her body firmly against mine. I leaned in so that only she could hear. "This afternoon, Clark, … I was just getting started. I'm going to take you back to bed tonight."

She pursed her lips and huffed a clever reply that challenged me to some stimulating witty banter, one I couldn't resist joining her for. "Bed?! You have no bed, remember? You didn't bother to buy one! You, sir, have only a soft cashmere blanket and hardwood floor. A beautiful hardwood floor. But cold."

"Cold?" I playfully retorted feigning disbelief, then lowered my voice to a whisper and came closer to her. "What do you know about a cold hardwood floor? I believe my body served as your cushy air mattress the majority of the day, and your bare bottom, madam, only knew a soft blanket and mthe softest of my hands!"

I raised my eyes and watched her giggle yet struggle with a comeback as she shook her head. "Ok, I got nothing! Oh man! Why do I sometimes have nothing?"

"Well Clark, just so you know. I needn't a bed nor a blanket or a _cold_ _floor_ to make love to you."

"You don't, huh?" she flirtatiously egged me on. "Go on then! What do you have to say for yourself?"

"What I was going to tell you, Clark, " I continued whispering, "Was that I only need to hold you up with your legs wrapped around me, and I'll do all the rest."

I eagerly awaited a brilliant and amusing remark, a sexy smile and a whole new round of giggling. What I knew of Louisa Clark was that while she had made it abundantly clear she hadn't liked sex in the past that she had proven she possessed a healthy sexual appetite _for_ _me_. Louisa was after all quite forceful with me not on occasion but occasion after occassion, and I was looking forward to being forceful in kind, to bring as much pleasure to her as she brought to me. But her reaction was not at all what I was expecting. She fell almost immediately silent looking like a deer caught in headlights, and I wasn't at first sure what to make of it.

I could tell she didn't know what to say or do. She licked her lips, and looking downwards searched around her as though she might find some words there. But none turned up. She looked back up at me with an expressionless and lost face, and I froze. There was something familiar about the look, the search for words, the silence. It happened the first time I met her in reference to not attending Manchester, then again in Tenby when I wanted to move our steamy makeout session indoors and stay the night. My heart sank to a dark place, and I willed myself not to entertain such ideas. It wasn't possible I thought. Louisa had willfully taken great, great liberties with me. She was aggressive and bossy ,and the one thing I knew beyond a reasonable doubt was that she enjoyed herself and she enjoyed me.

Louisa, however, was cognizant enough to recognize my confusion with a flash of her eyes, and that very awkward silence that lasted for only a millisecond but seemed like forever had passed that very instant. Before I could get a word in edgewise, she began to yammer on a mile a minute. Overly animated and over the top, she exaggerated her exasperation and impatience, even using her hands and pointing to emphasize her frustration . "I'm just _SO_ _famished_! Did you hear that? My stomach! I _thought_ they said a _short_ wait time. I'm _really_, _really_ hungry! Like _starving_! Do you think it would be ok if I asked that bloke over there if I can have the rest of his hamburger. He seems like he's finished. Why else would you shove the plate away from you if you weren't done, right? Yeah?! What's taking so long tonight? It's never like this."

We had only been waiting about 10 minutes, and it was painfully obvious that she had deliberately changed the topic, her theatrics a way of overcompensating for her unusual silence. After she finished her rant, she bit on both her lips with her eyes wide and bulging, pensively observing me to see if her deflection had paid off, a successful avoidance tactic of the question "Are you ok, Clark?" But it did not. And she knew as much. Worry returned to her face as she took note of the fact that confusion and concern remained on mine the whole time.

She and I stood barely a foot apart, and whatever was wrong I wanted to make it better. "Come here, Clark," I gestured with a side nod of my head. I scooped her up into a loving embrace and tightened my hold of her. "Everything ok with you?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course" she waved off my concerns with a fake smile as she addressed me face to face, my hands holding her by the small of her back. "I've just … you know," she stammered so loudly any bystander and passerby could easily overhear, "I've just got this unbelievable… _BAD …. I mean REALLY, REALLY BAD CRAVING for the juiciest … I mean THE JUCIEST HAMBURGER! That's all … REALLY!"_

I knew she was concealing something from me, and it was neither the time nor the place to ask. For the here and now I wanted to put it out of my mind and see her cheerful, smiling face again. I didn't even know if I could handle the truth if there was a truth to be had. I was actually glad when she stopped a waitress to ask what the hold up with our table was.

"Local celebrity!" the woman proudly boasted. "Just filmed a commercial here this afternoon for an endorsement. The crew's having a bite to eat before they leave."

Louisa was highly skeptical of the waitress's claims and turned back towards me to erupt into a fit of giggles. "Local celebrity in Stortford! Commercial!" she scoffed. "Ridiculous! _I_ _want_ _my_ _hamburger_!"

Just then our table was called. "Party of 2, Traynor!"

"That's us!" she squealed before breaking into a crazy celebratory dance and song "I'm gonna to have me some big filthy, drippy hamburgers!" With her bubbly personality back on full display, I couldn't help but breathe that much needed deep sigh of relief that she acting her normal self now. And trust me, crazy was normal for her, and it didn't take long before our server learned that for himself!

Once seated in a booth, Louisa became fascinated by the menu, making it a point to tell me that she hadn't been there in such a long time that they had totally overhauled the menu. "Now I don't know what to choose. Everything looks _mouthwatering!" _

Her indecisiveness led her to change her order numerous times. Armed with a devilish grin and cheeky smile, she overpronounced every word each time she engaged with young Chad. "I'll have a … no, no … make that a … can I get a separate side with that? … then let me have aaaaaaaaa …. Ooooo is that _new_ on the menu?! No, no. I'll take that! Oh but that looks sooooo good too!"

I smirked. I belly laughed. I held back tears she was so funny, so adorable. She was everything to me. "Don't think of me often" I recalled writing in a letter in my dreams where I said a final goodbye to her. I must have been crazy out of my mind to want to leave her. In this life … I wanted her to think of me every second of every day like I did about her. And this was one of the reasons why. Her smile lit up my world, and I lived and breathed to see it.

Not so for Chad though.

He was overwhelmed and flustered trying to keep up with Louisa's ever-evolving order, scribbling and scratching out one of her whims and replacing it with another. Poor Chad. The one thing I could say was that Louisa was no Alicia. She winced feeling guilty about changing her mind so often as she watched him struggle taking her order. "Sorry. So, so sorry." I felt bad for the young bloke just trying to do his job that I reached over to take her hand in mine and delicately eased her into making a final decision. "Clark," I joked, "Make up your mind or you'll never eat."

"I know, right?" she smiled, shaking her head in agreement. "No, no, Chad. Final, final order. Really! Promise!"

A side order of mac and cheese. A side order of beer-battered onion rings and sour cream. One order of 2 chargrilled burgers served on a brioche bun with bacon and Monterey Jack cheese with skin on fries. And one order of grilled chicken breasts with fresh mozzarella with ranch dressing and tomato on a large toasted bun simply to try she exclaimed as she shrugged her shoulders. "It's brand new! I can't decide between that and the burger! And I'm having a super, super craving for a burger! I _neeeeed_ my burger!"

I thought it was impossible to love her anymore than I already did but soon learned that it was still entirely possible to love her even more. I was mesmerized by her and couldn't take my eyes off her as she savagely consumed her meal with the same gusto in which she savagely ravaged me . Louisa raved. She hawed. She drummed her legs under the table before trying each new dish and giggled. She made funny faces to emphasize how delicious each were. "Mmmmmmmmm! Really, _REALLY HITS THE SPOT!" "AMAZZZZZZZZZZING!" "IT'S PERRRRRRRRFECT!"_ She licked her fingers and wiped food from the front of her dress._ "Oops! Guess all of me is REALLY enjoying my meal, huh?!" _

When she noticed I was staring she sarcastically asked, "What? Never seen a woman enjoy her meal before?"

"Not _with_ the same vigor you go at me, Clark!" I quipped back to a series of roaring giggles, each ending with an unplanned snort despite her not even having a sip of alcohol that evening. "I'm going to stick with soft drinks tonight! Coke only. No need to get more tipsy than I already am on life right now!"

I felt myself getting welled up with tears as I gushed at her. "I do love you, Clark."

"Better," she responded in a whisper as she giggled more, and leaning across the table lovingly admitted, "I would never do any of those things with someone I didn't love and who didn't love me back."

I was in awe of her as I watched her put away and gorge on her second helping of onion rings dipped in sour cream. "You certainly worked up quite the appetite, didn't you, Clark?" I commented as she tore into half an onion ring, the other half falling onto her lap. "You _know _I did, Will! You were there!" she naughtily laughed, turning a shade of pink. I was even more curious about this little notebook she had pulled out of her purse to scribble on, leaving her greasy fingerprints on the numbered list she appeared to be working on, and every so often doodling hearts around her writing and shading them with her blue ballpoint pen.

In a very flirty manner, I began inquiring about what caught my interest which sparked another round of witty banter. "What are you working on, Clark?"

"A list!" she announced in a haughty and loud voice teasing me like a bad girl.

"I know it's a list, but what's the list for?"

"A "To-Do" list, of course!"

"I can see that! What's it for though?"

"To move in! I like to keep organized, and I don't want to forget anything."

"Well, in that case, can I see?"

"Uh-uh! You would be able to understand it anyway. It's in short hand!"

"Ah, I see!" I began to read it upside down as best I could. "Let's see. Hmmm number one. Change address with credit card company and Royal Mail. Very good start!"

"Thank you," she smirked proudly, playing along as we continued to flirt. I did my best to squint and read upside down.

"Hmmmm … go food shopping … very practical … open … open Amazon boxes and other boxes. Yes, we have a lot to open and set up. Get Venus … in Furs back from K."

"My fancy Deborah Lippmann nail polish! Treena borrowed but never returned it."

"Well, we couldn't have that, now could we?"

"Nope!"

"Hmmmmm …. Extra …. Oh I know! Extra .. thr … thread in basement."

"Very good!"

"Let's see…. Daphne's …. hmmmm…pic .. picture collection?

"Yeah! Beautiful photos of her on set doing fittings! I think maybe I'll get frames one day at lunch and hang them in my new … in my _new_ studio!"

"That's a wonderful way to honor your mentor and teacher, Clark. I'm sure she would be very proud of you and the work you've been doing."

"Thank you," she beamed with tears in her eyes. "It meant the world to me that she would spend the time teaching me everything she knew."

"Well Daphne sounds like she was an incredibly special lady."

"She was! She really was! She made me feel … she made me feel … whole … worthy … again."

Worthy of what, I thought. There was that heart stopping dead silence again, and we both read one another's faces. She mine and mine hers. Don't ask, don't ask, please don't ask her eyes begged as if she had disclosed something she hadn't intended to. Relief suddenly flashed across her face, saved by Chad ready to take our dessert order. "YES! Cheesecake with raspberry compote and whipped cream! And an espresso!"

I let the uncomfortable moment pass and returned to reading her list upside down. "Um …. Don't forget something …. something about silk is all I know …."

"Yes!" she cried overcompensating with the same dramatic tactics as earlier. "Yes! Exactly! Baby shampoo. You _have_ to wash silk in baby shampoo."

"You're the expert, Clark. Sooooooooo, what about number … number 11? Hmmmmmmm Hart … Hartley?"

"Yeah … well never mind that one, ok?" As soon as the words left Louisa's mouth, she pressed her lips together tightly into a pucker and widened her eyes to the point they bulged from her face, which told made me even the more curious about the mysterious Hartley.

"Clark?"

She did her best to ignore me."Mhmmm?"

"Who's Hartley?"

"Mmmmmmm … uh-uh."

"Oh come on! Just tell me!"

Louisa remained tight- slipped, shaking her head no with her eyes still bulging. "No, you'll think I'm crazy!" she protested, although I continued to needle her in the most good-humored way possible.

"Clark, that ship has already sailed, hmmm?"

"Ok, fine!" Louisa reluctantly lamented before that raving mad woman look took a strong hold of her. "So I was thinking …." she sang out bursting into laughter, trying but failing to compose herself. "Alright. You know how Charley … how _Charley_ … ummmmmm ….."

_I _fought to hold back my own laughter not knowing where she was going with this particular one. "How Charley what, Clark?"

"How she has a second name! Charlotte Grace."

"Uh-huh," I listened intently, hoping it wasn't what I was thinking.

"Well… what if Willow had a second name too?" Louisa paused for a second to gage my reaction before stammering. "You know because I love … well you know how much I love …"

Dear Lord, it is what I thought!

"Hearts?"

"Yeah, exactly! Well?"

"Well what, Clark?" I teased her, unable to resist being the sarcastic arse I am. She cocked her head in response and looked at me baffled, her expressive eyebrows conveying bewilderment.

"Do you like it? Willow Hartley?"

"I love the name, Clark. Maybe for a dog."

"What?!"

I reached for her hand again and massaging it told her," It's perfect!"

"Really? You mean it?"

"I do," I replied with a genuine warm smile as she nodded cheerfully at a job well done. I hope she knew I would give her anything she wanted.

"So what about 15 through 20? FP with … a bunch of illegible scribbles?"

"Shhhhh!"

"Why are we shooshing?"

"FP!"

"FP?"

"Shhhhh! Foreplay!"

"Ahhhhhh!I think we already did all those things, Clark! Today in fact."

"Well, I want to do them again."

So did I, but I had a better collective term for her single FP entries, one that wouldn't limit our actions or inhibit our imaginations. I gestured tor the pad and pen. "May I?"

She willingly pushed both across the table towards me and boasted," I can't wait to see what you add, Will Traynor!"

I crossed off items 15-20 and inserted a single entry to replace them, and very pleased with myself pushed the pad and pen back to her. "Here. Read it for yourself."

Louisa's mouth fell agape, but once the shock wore off, she crinkled her nose and cackled. "Is that what we're calling it now? A Game of _This_ _or_ _That_?!"

I licked my lips proudly. "A Game of _This_ _or_ _That_, yes! I think you helped create that one if memory serves me right!"

She knew I was right, and I squinted my eyes at her until she fessed up to it. "I'm not letting you out of this one, Clark!"

"Fine! You got me, ok? But if it's a game, Will, how does one _win_?"

"See, Clark, the way I see it we both walk away winners! It's a feel-good game for all involved? Don't you think?"

"Very feel good!" she giggled lowering her voice and feeding me a forkful of her cheesecake, intimately wiping raspberry from my lips. She quickly looked around to make sure other pub goers hadn't been eavesdropping on our very private conversation when her upbeat mood ceased in the mere seconds she had taken her gaze off of me. Louisa straightened up in her seat and shifted uncomfortably. She gritted her teeth and took a hard gulp of her espresso with a pained face before pushing the cheesecake away from her.

What she said next really concerned me. "Will, do you think we can go? I want to leave."

Something was wrong. I linked my finger onto hers as she loosely cupped her espresso and affectionately asked her outright what was wrong. Who or what in this pub made her want to leave. "You were really looking forward to that cheesecake. Why do you want to go before you've finished?"

"Just full and tired now I guess. A lot of excitement today."

I studied her closely trusting my instincts, knowing her well enough to know when she was lying to me. Tired, my arse. An excuse, that's what that was. "Louisa?" I uttered with both my face and tone of my voice conveying let's have it, out with the truth now.

Her shoulders and body sank in the booth, her body language screaming defeat. "Pat's here, ok " she grimaced, gesturing with her hand to indicate somewhere across the room from us.

"Ah," I calmly responded turning my head slightly to peer out without being too obvious.

Panic immediately spread across her face. "No, no. Don't look!" She motioned with a thrust of her head to the side. "He's seated over there. He was staring. I bet he's been staring at us the whole night. Let's just go, ok?"

Louisa was right. There Running Man sat at the opposite end of the crowded pub, his eyes transfixed on us. A glowering scowl. A scorned man. A jealous man. A very jealous man.

I didn't for one second feel bad for him. It's not like he treated Louisa well. He was a rubbish boyfriend, and she certainly didn't owe him anything. It was, however, Louisa 's safety and comfort level that I was most concerned about though

"Are you sure you don't want to stay and at least finish your dessert?"

"Positive. If we stay I know I wont enjoy myself."

"You know Stortford's not like London. You're bound to run into him at some point."

"Yeah, well I just don't want a confrontation right now, maybe like ever. He's not the nicest person to deal with, even on good day. I don't know the people he's sitting with, but I bet he's probably watched us the entire time we've been here. I really just want to go. Ok? "

I wasn't about to force Louisa to do something she didn't want to do or wasn't prepared to do yet. That simply wasn't my style. "Ok, then," I gave in. "I'll pay the bill, and we'll head out."

"Thank you," she sheepishly winced. "I know I shouldn't let Pat bother me, but you don't know him the way I do. He has a vindictive streak to him."

Unfortunately, on our way out we had to pass Patrick and his new posse who put on quite the show at our expense …


	64. Chapter 64

**CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR**

That evening you'd think I was escorting a drunken woman back to my SUV in the King's Head carport, but that was the farthest from the truth. Without a single drop of liquor, Louisa was unable to walk upright on her own and nor was she in any condition to do so after battling our way out of the pub's entrance through a rowdy crowd of fans who had gathered around to celebrate Stortford's finest, none other than Running Man himself.

Once we saw our way clear, Louisa stumbled and collapsed into a fit of laughter in my arms, clinging to me and swaying from side to side as I offset her weight with mine to keep her from falling to the ground. A mixture of raucous laughs and beastly half snorts emitted from her little body. "I can stand! I can stand! Really, Will! I can!" she insisted several times before lapsing into uncontrollable laughter again and falling back into my arms. I navigated us as quickly as I could through the parked cars, and arriving at my SUV I momentarily propped Louisa up against its side so that I could reach inside my jacket pocket for my key fob and hurried to open the passenger door, stopping briefly to re-prop her up again.

I pleaded with her for help or rather to help me help her. "Louisa, you've got to help me out a bit. Let's get you in the car, hmm?" I had to admit though that I was quite amused by Louisa's reaction to Running Man and grinned profusely watching her in hysterics. It was clear that there was no unfinished business on Louisa's part although I never suspected there would be, but moreover I took great pleasure and satisfaction seeing her laugh at a man who had put her down every chance he got. I could only imagine what unflattering words Patrick would have for Louisa if he could see her like this. I was sure he would find her beastly rhythmic snorts embarrassing, expressing his great displeasure for her. As for me? Well they were simply adorable. She was adorable.

I offered Louisa my hand to assist her getting into car, but she waved me off still laughing. "Sorry, Will! I can't just yet! A minute, ok?" Her hair hung over her head, and I watched as she blew some strands away revealing her red face. "A minute more, Will?" she cackled, her knees buckling again. "Did Pat really …? Did I see right? Did he really …?!"

"What?! Autograph those 2 ladies' breasts?"

"Yeah!" she cried out silently, nodding her head in the affirmative, her laughter briefly stealing her voice before bellowing out. "Like some 1980s metal hair band!" Then she collapsed again laughing so hard she cried. "Pat! Local celebrity?! I'd have a hard time believing it if I hadn't seen it for myself!" she belted out incredulously before holding her side. "Oh God! Oh God, Will! My side hurts! Really hurts!"

"Then stop laughing!" I sarcastically advised her, finding myself laughing as hard as she was now. Louisa Clark's laughter was contagious but so was laughing at her prick of an ex- boyfriend.

"Oh, I can't!" she confessed as she held her one hand to her chest sucking in air to try to breathe and fanned herself with the other. "I just can't, Will! I can't stop laughing!"

And neither could I.

Patrick was a pathetic, little man – childish and immature – and his staged ruse nothing more than a mere sham, a show de force and blatant attempt to enrage Louisa and to make her jealous. Only it backfired. Severely backfired. Perhaps he underestimated the seriousness of our relationship. Perhaps he underestimated Louisa's feelings for me. How apropos I thought. He had been underestimating Louisa for years. Her beauty. Her intelligence. Her talent. Her desirability by another man. It was insulting that he thought Louisa could be played so easily.

One thing was for sure. Running Man was obnoxious. And his motives obvious. He was smug and arrogant, cocky and pompous, self-centered and egotistical, and most of all insufferable. Plain and simple, he was a real tosser. He orchestrated the whole farce, laying it on real thick for me and Louisa to see and hear. For every over-the-top action he took he glanced over at me and Louisa to make sure we were watching to glean our responses. He wanted to get under our skin, for Louisa to get jealous and for me to doubt our relationship seeing her all bent out of shape over him. Only I wasn't the jealous or angry type. And Louisa … Louisa was over him, probably years long before I met her, their breakup long overdue.

Running Man was shameless. Absolutely shameless. I thought I had come across some of the most narcissistic characters in business and in extreme sports, but Running Man topped the cake. He was a blowhard. Self-important. Self-centered. Pretentious. The list goes on and on. He ran his mouth, coming onto his legions of fan girls who had swarmed him for selfies and pushed their breasts at him just as shamelessly as "his people" filmed the mob. Supposedly with him were his "business representatives," "handlers," and the crew who had filmed a commercial staring … him, of course, or so he said as he introduced his groupies to them. He flirted with these hangers on, putting his arms around them and pulling them in for kisses despite just meeting. He entered his mobile number in their contacts on their phones, making them promise to give him a ring to "hook up", promising them free training sessions. He bragged on and on of his newfound fame and status, intentionally shouting so that Louisa and me couldn't help but overhear. He flaunted a recent purchase of an expensive condo in a new real estate development from a London based-group on the riverbed in an adjacent town, the first thing he said he bought with the earnings he won from his first triathlon win! He talked of building "his brand" and of individual endorsement deals, of team sponsorships for the Hailsbury Triathlon Terrors, of the internet spots team sponsors would be filming of the Terrors training for the upcoming Viking Nordic, and of the possibility of a reality show being pitched for "Entrepreneur of the Year" two times in a row now turned professional athlete and newly single man on the prowl! The worst was seeing Running Man take his own phone and turn it into selfie mode to use as a mirror, checking his teeth and hair, practicing smiles between "fan interactions". Yes, Patrick was apparently a big man now – a big deal –and he wanted Louisa to know what she threw away!

"I can't believe someone's actually … actually paying him to wear … I mean _model_ their tri suits! Spokesperson?! All for winning that stupid triathlon with a bunch of newcomers in the field or so Treena heard!" Louisa howled as she finally climbed into my SUV with my assistance.

"I believe Running Man used the term 'ambassador', Clark!"

"YES! EXACTLY! EXACTLY! _AMBASSADOR!"_ she mocked mercilessly. "And did you hear him? Endorsement deals?! For a protein shake?! Print ads and commercials! How ludacris! If you know Pat, you'd think it would be more fitting that he was an _ambassador_ for a liquid laxative instead of a protein shake! You know he likes his '_cleanses'! Helps him run faster when he's 'lighter' or so__he__says__**!**__" _

Her words alone conjured up more images of Running Man that made me shudder. Lackluster lover. Two-bit athlete. Worst life coach ever. Bully and trainer. Now ... well, I didn't want to go there. "A bit too much information, don't you think Clark?!"

"No, no! I'm serious, Will!" she hooted continuing on despite my cringing. "That's how he got barred from the café! He'd _stop_ _in_ to use the _facilities_ and _stop up _the toilet and all our noses! Frank told him _no_ _more_. _No more!_ And he _argued_ with him. It was _sooooooooo, soooooooo embarrassing for me! You have no idea! No idea how mortified I was! It was awful, just awful. That's my workplace, you know!" _

I did have an idea though, and it broke my heart knowing that Patrick didn't care one way or the other if he embarassed Louisa in public …. or at her workplace … or in front of her family. That was the God's honest truth.

"Where to, Clark?" I asked before turning on the ignition. "Any place you want."

"To Treena!" she responded definitively, giggling and thumping her feet in the passenger seat. "SHE'S GOING TO HAVE _SO MUCH FUN WITH THIS!"_

Louisa had wanted to return _home_ after seeing Running Man that evening. Correction, she wanted to return to her _parents'_ home to "sleep in her own bed tonight". And I was to join her, the matter already settled in her mind. "Remember? That's what you said, Will! That we would never spend another night apart? Besides, we have some busy days ahead of us, moving into the stables and all, and we need some _proper_ rest. Plus, we have to tell everyone about our new living arrangement, and I know my mum and dad will want to see you! I'm sure they've already found out by now that Dad's getting his job back! So it's agreed, yes?!" It was, and lucky for me I always kept a packed "go bag" in the trunk of my car for times when I had to stay unexpectedly overnight at Lewins or had to leave town on a business emergency.

The car ride to the Clark home was wild to say the least. I had to pull over twice. Once to fish through Louisa's purse to find tissues because she was laughing so hard that her eye makeup had completely run off and stung and burned her eyes at some point. And the second because I had lost it myself every time she started laughing like a hyena._ "Are you sure you don't want to get dirty with me?"_ she kept repeating in between giddy laughter! "Clark, please stop," I begged of her. "Please! Every time you laugh like that I start to laugh. I can't drive like this!" "Sorry. Sorry," she replied until it happened again and again and again.

Treena, of course, didn't hold anything back once she found out about Running Man! "That stupid, stupid twat! He's got his head up his arse!"

"YES!" cried Louisa as she proceeded to fill her sister in on more while a sleepy Thomas climbed up on her lap in his pajamas.

"Wait! Did you just say he's a _mentor_ in Big Brothers Big Sisters? After _how_ he treated my son?!"

"Apparently, Treen. I mean that's what he said. I don't really know, but poor kid if _there_ _is_ a kid. For a life coach, he's not very … very …. he …. ummmmmm … he ...,"

"Sucks, Clark?! Just say it! He sucks as a life coach! Sucks as a boyfriend!"

"Here! Here!" Louisa agreed, shaking her head consecutively up and down while pursuing her lips with wide, expressive eyes. "_Sucks_ as a person, Will! Don't forget that!"

That was without saying. Even Rupert had _some_ redeemable qualities. This bloke, however, I wondered about. I sat on the Clarks' couch next to Louisa with my arm around her shoulders as she cradled her nephew in her arms. I intently watched her fawn over him, rocking him and playing with his hair while he nestled against her chest. Boy. Girl. Jamie. Charley. Willow. Gemma. I didn't much care anymore. All I knew was that I wanted that. Exactly that.

Louisa was right about Treena though – nothing much escaped her with her keen sense of perception and observation. Just like their mum, it was as though she could read my innermost thoughts, at least where Louisa was concerned. I was an open book as ever there was one.

Her eyes glanced from me to Louisa, and she shook her head at us both.

"So you two spent the _entire_ day together?" she accusingly asked already knowing the answer. Both of us bobbed our heads yes, pursing our lips and blushing, looking as guilty as we were. We spent the day making love. We knew it and so did Treena Clark just by the look of us. She was a straight shooter – tough as nails, a force to reckon with – and she spoke her mind irrespective of feelings. She didn't mince words and was … to a fault … a pragmatist, not at all the romantic or dreamily idealist Louisa was! That was a stark difference between the sisters.

"You two are disgustingly cute, you know that?! _Sickly_ cute! Right there in your arms!" she gestured to Louisa at Thomas. "A cautionary tale, you two!"

"Katrina Clark!" Louisa balked, appalled at her sister's suggestion. "Shhhhhh!" she murmured, clutching Thomas more tightly who had by now fallen fast asleep. "That's between me and Will not you, yeah?!"

Katrina crossed her arms and looked suspiciously at us until Louisa set the record straight.

"No, I already told you NO! AND, _if and when_ there's something to tell, I'll tell you, but there's NOT. Now do you want to hear the rest about Pat or not? The best part?"

"Well then hurry up," Treena snapped back, sitting all the way back in the side chair and crossing her legs defiantly. "You take forever to tell a story!"

Louisa huffed in defeat at her sister's comment but rebounded quickly. Looking delirious, her eyes danced with glee, and she began to giggle again. I knew what was coming, and I was about to lose it again. "Soooooooooooooooo," she sang out beginning her story. "So Pat is talking to these two girls, and the one is this tall mousy thing _who was hopelessly flirting _with him …. which was like … really, really like ick … just remembering it … just ick … but you see Pat was only interested in her friend who looked like she was dragged there by the other. She was this … um … short, petite brunette. Long hair in a braid … a crown braid …. and ….,"

"So you just described yourself I see?!" Treena quipped sarcastically, drawing similarities between the girl and Louisa.

"Jeez, Treen! No! She didn't look anything like me! Not at all," Louisa shot back. "Except the height and hair color, … um … _maybe_ the braid, but ANYWAY, _anyway …._ _as I was saying _she didn't look like she wanted to be there unlike her friend, and Pat gets all cocky and stuff and brags to this girl that he and '_his boys' _are competing in a Tough Mudder … you know those obstacle courses with mud … to build '_team rapport'_ and '_gear_ up" for _that_ _stupid_ Viking Nordic next summer. And _then_ proceeds … _proceeds_ to come onto her and invites her to join them, looking straight at me as Will and I are passing him … and trust me, we wanted to get _out_ _of_ _there_ FAST! And she turns him down FLAT! 'Thanks, but that's not my type of thing!' And then _he_ _asks ….. wait for it … he asks,_ 'Are you _sure you _don't want to get _dirty_ _with_ _me_?' And the girl's like YEAH, POSITIVE!"

"Ewwwwwwwww!" groaned Treena in disgust before naming Running Man for what he was. "What a sleaze!"

"It was soooooo gross, Treen!" Louisa grimaced, reiterating her sister's sentiments. "So, so gross!"

"Jesus, Lou! Pat's out of control! He has … no shame! None at all! You know he was trying to make you jealous, right?"

"I know," Louisa yelped, shaking her head and wincing like she had just swallowed cough syrup. "Don't remind me! He's _just so ….. gross_! There's no other word. You know he was even boasting that he's listed as a '_public_ _figure'_ on Facebook and that his accounts are '_verified'_ on Instagram!"

"Who knows, Clark?" I reminded her, adding that we didn't know how much was truth and how much was bluster for our benefit.

"Let's see, shall we?" Treena suggested with a cheshire smile as she held up her iPhone. "Who's up for a little Internet stalking?"

I was game.


	65. Chapter 65

**CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE **

I was restless and couldn't sleep despite ending my day just as heavenly as I had started it – both naked and well cared for in Louisa's bed. When we retired for the evening to the attic, Louisa had softly climbed onto my lap where she began to slowly kiss and undress me. I had become intimate with every part of her body this day, and although so many thoughts and emotions were swirling through my head of what I had learned since arriving at the Clark residence just a few short hours ago, I couldn't deny her even if I wanted. "Are you sure, Clark? You're family's still up downstairs." "They won't come up here. Thomas is sleeping, that's all that matters. I'll be gentle, very, very gentle and quiet. Promise. What do you say, Will?" "Ok," I whispered back. I was hers to do what she wanted with, and I had never felt closer to another human being.

I was in deep thought as I lie awake, Louisa sleeping ever so soundly with her head resting upon my chest where a small pool of drool moistened my skin. She had her peculiarities about her, the drool being one of them, her fascinations with 1980s pop culture and the way 9 out of 10 times her clothes bore a heart on them among others. She certainly was one of a kind, and I loved her for being so different from anyone I knew.

When we had told Treena that we were moving in together, her response was so very Treena, so Louisa said. "Duh, you'd have to be dead not to expect that! " But it was another particular comment she passed in private that I couldn't get out of my head and which drove me crazy thinking about all evening. "Have you seen her work?" "Of course I have," I answered. "Her designs and costumes are beautiful!" After all, I had encouraged her to sell her designs, made the connection for her with Kat in London. If she wasn't talented, I wouldn't have encouraged that. "No," Treena corrected me. "But have you seen her sewing yet?" No, _that_ I hadn't seen. "Then you're in for it!" she howled, not giving me any other details. When I asked Louisa what she meant by that, she only smiled and giggled, and in the sexiest voice hummed, "Look at Treen stirring up trouble. Let's just say, Will, that I have a process just like any athlete gearing up for a big game, or a business man like yourself about to pitch a deal and take an important meeting! You'll see!" God only knew what that entailed, but I was intrigued, very intrigued. And I wondered if she would allow me to become incorporated into that sacred routine.

Louisa's parents were in a celebratory mood for obvious reasons. How could they not be? "I never imagined Beech would reopen their doors!" That phone call came out of the blue they insisted, not in their wildest dreams did they believe the business would be given a second chance. "I'm going back to work!" Bernard excitedly shouted but then admitted that it was just in the nick of time that both he and Treena found themselves unexpectedly and newly employed. "Things were starting to get really tough around here. I didn't know how much more we could have tightened our belt." He shook my hand thanking me for guaranteeing the orders to furnish the great halls of the renovated Castle that made the business loan possible. "We won't let you down, Will! The workmanship will be top quality. Only the best!" I had to hand it to Josie. She was always very observant. "You three knew, didn't you?" she inquired, staring at me, then Louisa and Treena. "Your smirks gave you away!" I also learned just how bad the family's finances had gotten. With Treena unable to get any more shifts at the flower shop, Louisa had given her mum her first monthly dividend check to keep up with the mortgage payments. "Lou told us you invested her earrings from London. That was so kind of you. As was hiring Treena. She's a smart one, very resourceful. You wont be sorry. I know she'll learn a lot from you." But the one thing that stuck in my mind was the comparison she made between me and Louisa. While my mum had pointed out all of our differences, Josie Clark had honed in on one great similarity we had both apparently shared. "You're both caretakers. Lou deserves someone who puts her first, who takes good care of her while she's so busy taking care of all of us!" Too bad my mum couldn't see things her way.

But when the topic changed to moving in together, Josie expressed her apprehension much to her husband's chagrin . "Josie, stay out of the kids' business. Let them live their own lives." She apologized, insisting that she didn't mean to interfere, that she would have her say when it came to the safety of her daughter. And I knew exactly where she was going with this – my mum. Treena must have filled her in on all the glory details.

"Are you sure you want to do this, luv?" she asked Louisa, taking her hand in hers. "No offense to you, Will. You know I think you're darling."

"I am," Louisa answered, bobbing her head to reassure her mother that she had given this serious thought. "I really, really am, Mum."

Josie, however, wasn't entirely sold on the idea of us living together … more like living in great proximity to my mum. And she voiced her concerns. "It's not you I don't trust, Will. I know you have nothing but the best of intentions towards my daughter. It's your mum I'm not so sure about. Not after what Treena shared with me. I don't like it one bit." Her anger began to shine through, and I couldn't blame her for being protective.

"Oh Mum!" Louisa jumped in to defend me. "Don't take your angry out on Will. Pleaassssse."

"I'm not, Lou, but I need some reassurances that won't happen again. It was cruel what she did to you – deceiving you like that. No parent wants to see their child the way I've seen you this past week."

"Yeah, I know, but Mum! Pleeeeease, let's not bring this up anymore!" she begged of her as if to spare me from feeling uncomfortable or embarassed. Louisa's eyes bulged, and she gestured a definitive nod to Josie to stop talking about the matter, who only grimaced back at her daughter, not pleased by her daughter's insistence to table the subject.

"Clark, it's ok. I know who my mum is, and I'm not going to pretend she's something she's not. I was livid when I found out myself." What my mum did to Louisa … how she treated her … was entirely malicious and uncalled for. Camilla Traynor had always declared that she had taken necessary actions to protect her family out of love, but this time she had gone entirely too far. "I won't make excuses for her, Josie. What she did was reprehensible, and I've already handled her in a way she understands. I give you my word, no harm shall come to Louisa."

Like any normal parent, Josie was sincerely worried about Louisa's welfare, and her only regard was to see her child happy and thriving. She was the complete opposite of my mum who confused control and meddling with love. I could never see Louisa's mum scheming behind her back, and while she had clearly been no fan of Running Man she also hadn't been capable of fabricating and constructing narratives in an effort to manipulate Louisa the way my mum did. And unlike Camilla Traynor, Josie Clark respected her children's choices even if she didn't agree with them.

"Promise me she'll be safe. She's my first-born, Will. She's very precious to me."

"She's very precious to me too, Josie. I intend on watching my mum like a hawk."

"Ok then. Keep my girl happy," she smiled nodding. "Would it be helpful if I went and introduced myself to your mum? Have a conversation mother to mother? Smooth things over? I'm sure we can all get along."

Louisa's head shot up, her bashfulness at hearing us talk about her was now replaced with alarm as she cried out in a panic. "What? No, Mum! Just stay away from that woman," she pleaded emphasizing her words. "Please don't make things worse! Just let Will handle her! Ok?"

"I'm just trying to help, luv," Josie nodded in response, speaking tenderly to Louisa while touching her chin as a sign of endearment.

I backed Louisa up, thanking Josie for her offer but letting her know that I had everything under control. Although she reluctantly agreed to let things go, Josie issued a stern warning to us both. "Ok, but if I hear one more bad thing I'm going over there myself to have it out with that woman! She needs to know we Clarks are good people!"

The thought of Josie Clark wandering off to Granta House with a strawberry shortcake in tow and introducing herself to my mum haunted me all night long. An impromptu meeting between them would only spell trouble. I could imagine the two strong-willed mothers butting heads with a terrible, nasty row ensuing between them: my mum insulting Louisa's mum, Louisa's mum taking great offense and standing up for herself and her daughter, then defending our relationship. I could just see it. What a headache! No, no. Introductions would have to be planned, exposure limited, monitored, and Camilla Traynor babysat at great cost.

But our mums meeting wasn't the only thing that was gnawing at me. Running Man was too. He indeed was telling the truth, at least in regards to his recent Triathlon win catapulting him to a pretentious "public figure" on Facebook, his other social media accounts "verified" as well. There was even a spot from his team sponsor posted. But what Treena had found on his Instagram was disturbing and gave me great pause. Just what the bloody hell was he up to? He posted dozens of selfies strategically taken that showed me and Louisa in the background as if he had been stalking us since we entered the pub. Louisa and me kissing. Louisa and me cuddling. Louisa and me laughing. Louisa gorging on her meals and dessert. Louisa and me grimacing, reacting to him as we battled our way through his fans. He was watching us watching him. It was to say the least creepy. Louisa had said it herself though – he was a spiteful man. So what exactly did Running Man have up his sleeve? The one thing I knew was that I didn't trust him.


	66. Chapter 66

**CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX**

"Don't worry, I'll be careful. Really I will, Clark. Please trust me."

As much as Louisa wanted to move in with me, she was beyond paranoid when it came to transporting Bee and Honey late that afternoon.

"Just be really, really, extra careful, Will. Ok? Like extra, extra careful!" I could read the hesitation and apprehension on her face, her eyebrows furrowed expecting the worst – an accidental slip down the stairs, tripping over my own two feet on a patch of carpet that had worn or bubbled and lifted due to age and sun damage, hitting a pothole on the drive, anything at all that could result in the damage of her priceless objects. They were irreplaceable to her.

She wouldn't hear of boxing her most treasured items up for some movers who neither knew nor cared about their place in film history or the sentimentality both machines represented of her friendship with the woman who sewed the costumes Audrey Hepburn wore in My Fair Lady and who taught her textile arts and left them in Louisa's capable hands after she was gone. How was that for a vote of confidence in one's skills? To learn one's craft on such machines with a rich history then inherit them! "No, no. Absolutely not. You'll have to carry and drive them to the stables yourself, Will. Only you."

Using her proper name to emphasize the seriousness with which I took my task, I set about to ease her mind. "I know what these mean to you, Louisa." My effort to convey that understanding of how much Bee and Honey meant to her had restored her confidence in me instantaneously. Her body relaxed and a smile curled on her lips. "Ok," she murmured, looking up at me and shaking her head. I leaned in to place a gentle kiss upon her lips and reiterated my commitment to seeing them safely to our new home. "I'll take great care."

Her smile, of course, didn't last too long, and the minute I picked up Bee her anxiety returned. She winced and gritted her teeth looking like she was in agony from a nasty cut on her finger. "I got her, Clark. Just get the doors." Suffice it to say that both Bee and Honey successfully got to their destinations without a hitch, not a scratch not a dent. And Louisa was relieved. "The rest is a breeze," she exhaled once I set them down on a soft blanket in her new studio and she examined them with great scrutiny. "At least the moving part. Telling Thomas … well, that's a different story. That's going to be hard," she sighed, lifting her shoulders and smiling weakly trying to convince herself. Louisa insisted that _she _not Treena tell Thomas the news herself after school. The plan was to take him out for pizza and to give him a tour of the stables where we had hoped he would spend a lot of time with us. "He'll be ok, Clark. We'll make this work. You'll see."

The day began on a high note. Despite only a few hours of sleep, I awoke that very morning amazingly refreshed with a brilliant plan, a foolproof plan to streamline Louisa's packing woes and move, and to make it as smooth and easy as possible. Boxes. Lots and lots of boxes, labeled for each drawer or piece of furniture or storage cabinet that lined the attic walls. And pictures. Take lots and lots of pictures. Make use of my iPhone I thought. That way she could easily set everything back up exactly the way she had had it. To say the least she was impressed. "Takes all the guess work and stress out of it I guess. But what are we supposed to do with all those boxes afterwards? I mean that's _a lot_ of boxes, Will, even collapsed!" No, she was right. I hadn't thought that far ahead, but thinking on my feet I had an equally brilliant solution. "We'll give some to your mum's church for their food donations, and the rest we'll recycle their use and offer them to the shops relocating to Main Street gratis to facilitate their relocation."

Speaking of pictures, although Running Man's were beyond disconcerting, and even more worrisome that they were posted without our permission, they had proven one thing – Louisa and I were in love. I felt bad for about half a millisecond after doing it, but I couldn't resist snapping a pic of Louisa first thing this morning. That beautiful image of her snuggling against my chest, sleeping so soundly and so softly with a peaceful smile on her face! But it was the little drool droplets that continued to fall from her gorgeous lips and moisten my skin that I had most wanted to capture. She was flawless to me.

When I showed Louisa the photo after taking a few pics of her collections of apothecary jars filled with shells and seaside lanterns to assist with the move, she gasped! "Oh God, Will! What did you do?! I'm drooling all over you! I look terrible!"

"No, no. Not at all! See your lovely smile? I couldn't resist," I argued, yammering on, trying desperately to defend my photo. "You look beautiful, Clark! I had to. Really I did!" But alas she wasn't buying it. She listened intently with her lips pursed bobbing her head the entire time I spoke. "It's the honest truth, Clark. I swear."

"Drooling?"

"Yes! Drooling."

I could see the wheels turning in her head. She puckered her lips, and with a glimmer in her eye she smiled coyly. I knew I was in for it, and my heart rate sped up.

"Sooooo …," Louisa sang out challenging me, questioning my motives in her flirty voice that drove me wild. "What um _do_ you plan on doing with this picture?" She waited impatiently for my answer. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot, and even when she raised her eyes at me gesturing for a reply I could only smirk. Flabbergasted by my non response, she recovered quickly letting out a resounding, "hmmmm?" as she playfully poked at my chest and backed me up until I fell backwards onto her bed.

She was downright giddy and climbed slowly on top of me so that we were staring into each other's eyes. "_Am_ _I_ going to find my image plastered across your social media too?" she mocked with a devilish grin upon her face.

"God no, Clark!" I sarcastically belted out, amused by her reference to Running Man. "You and I have had enough of that, haven't we?!"

"We have! We certainly have!" she cooed.

God, she was seductive. I loved when she was frisky, and I felt myself become excited, very excited. I held her close, my hands caressing her back, up and down, coming to rest on her backside and pressing her firmly against me. She wore those little gray capris joggers and that asymmetrical gray sweatshirt with gold heart, the one that hung off her shoulder, and the only thing I wanted was to remove every last piece of clothing from her body.

She blushed as if she read my dirty mind and playfully carried on.

"Hmm .. let's see. Holding on to it for _revenge porn_, are you now? You know _if … if _ there comes a day," she lowered her voice, "That … you know … we break .. we're not … you know … together anymore?"

"Shhhh!" I whispered shaking my head repeatedly." Never. Never ever. Don't even think such things!"

"No?" she flirted, shaking her head.

"Nope, just not going to let it happen, Clark!" My hands gravitated up her sweatshirt as I massaged her bra strap as she giggled.

She was silly now with a bold smile plastered across her face. "Maybe I should place a towel under my face next time … on your chest, you know … to catch _the_ _drool_?"

"Don't you dare, Clark! I love your drool!"

"Ewwwwww!" she cringed, hooting and hawing! "I think you may be the only one! I don't even like my drool!"

I erupted into a fit of laughter watching her reaction. I adored her, her drool and hearts and bees and 1980 tunes and all. One thing I was certain of – I never witnessed any such intimacy, any such playfulness between my mum and dad like that between me and Louisa. They were prim and proper and showed little to no affection for one another outside of a cold kiss or peck on the cheek. There wasn't even any warmth when he called her darling or opened doors for her. Rules of society and manners called on them to play their parts, and play their roles they did. It was on rare occasion I felt empathy towards my parents, but this was one of these times. I didn't want their relationship or their life; I just wanted Louisa. I had lived a good life … a great life … but there was a difference between a good life filled with opportunity and entertainment and having goodness in your life. Louisa was my yin to my yang and vice versa. We brought all the missing pieces together like Munch's The Kiss, the sketch I couldn't take my eyes off at the MET last time I was in New York.

"You know, Clark," I whispered licking my lips," I couldn't live without you."

"Oh, I know, Will! Me neither. I still feel SOOOOO stupid for….,"she admitted with an embarassed frown, beating herself up again over believing my mum and her lies. I cut her off as soon as I realized where she was going with this.

"Clark, shhhhhh. No more talk of my mum." I drew her lips to mine and into a deep and passionate kiss, her body straddling mine as I ran my hands through her long silky hair. We shut the world out, so lost in one another that we neither heard the sounds of incoming texts nor the clicking footsteps ascending the staircase to Louisa's attic.

Treena. Hair coifed in a low bun at the nape of her neck. Tailored black pinstripe pantsuit. Shiny red heels that looked remarkably like Louisa's. I knew I was forgetting something, but I was just so focused on the move and Louisa always a major distraction for me … well I was a weak man where she was concerned … that I couldn't recall.

"Sheesh! Don't you lock your door?!" she huffed, disturbed by the image of Louisa straddled on top of me, and turning her head away from us.

Louisa jumped up, propping herself up on one arm to steady herself as she looked back at Treena, pining me down in the process. She shouted between clenched teeth, annoyed by the interruption, and glared at her sister with glowing wide eyes that looked as if they were pinned open. "Jeez! Don't you knock?!"

"I would if you closed your door!" Treena quipped back sarcastically imitating's Louisa wide-eyed stare. "Did you forget we have 2 meetings this morning, Will? The ice skating rink? For quotes? I texted you three times to remind you. The first company texted. They'll meet us there at 10am. We're cutting it close, you know."

I felt bad that the meetings had totally slipped my mind. "I _truly_ didn't hear my phone."

Under her breath I heard her murmur, "Apparently with your tongues in one another's mouths your hearing just magically shut off!" Treena turned to leave the attic but abruptly stopped and looked back at the two of us. She shook her head and rolled her eyes and proceeded to both give us a good tongue-lashing and a bit of unsolicited advice!. "I took care of all of all your mailings for Bee & Honey products sold while you sat up here crying your eyes out over _him_ and throwing up. And you, you almost forgot a business meeting on a solid bid for an integral part of opening the ice rink! You know … the ice! You two better get your tongues out of one another's mouths and get yourselves together! And don't let my son see you like … like THAT! Tom's only 5 for God's sake! I refuse to have that conversation that Auntie Lou and Will are just playing adult style! Be forewarned!"

"Treen! I would never!" Louisa exclaimed in horror although her mouth didn't stay agape for too long. "Hey, wait! Those are _my_ red shoes! You took my red shoes! I don't remember giving you permission to wear them!"

"I didn't have anything to match the outfit," the younger Clark sister replied nonchalantly with a dismissive shrug, then ignored Louisa altogether. "I'll be waiting downstairs for you, Will."

Louisa called after Treena as if to get the last word in. "Humph! I won't miss you stealing my stuff, you hear?! What are you going to do when I'm not here anymore? Steal mum's business clothes with shoulder pads from 1982? Huh?"

"I think you've already done that with that wardrobe of yours!" Treena shouted back up your stairs, not giving Louisa any satisfaction which left her fuming! "I don't wear shoulder pads!" she yelled back irate at that ridiculous suggestion!"

She looked back at me from the attic door seething at Treena. "Ooh!" she raged on, blowing off steam with some dramatics. "I don't believe her! First my nail polish then my shiny red shoes. I have the mind to pull them right off her feet! Shoe thief!"

Ah, sisters! I knew a little about them too, having a much younger and bratty one myself. "Count yourself lucky your sister only steals your belongings, Clark. Mine beheads innocent teddy bears."

_More to come … hope you are enjoying! Drop me a review if you are! _


	67. Chapter 67

**CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN **

"Yes! Come with us."

"Dressed like this?" Louisa glanced down at her off-the shoulder sweatshirt and jogger capris amused by what she thought was a preposterous invitation.

"Mmmhmm," I nodded smiling, encouraging her to join me and Treena at the ice rink for our meetings. "You look beautiful, Clark. AND, you'll see that the only person overdressed _is_ your sister!"

She squinted her eyes and looked at me skeptically at which point I made one final plea. "Look at me, Clark. Stubble everywhere. I was a total wreck over the thought of losing you that I couldn't even care to shave."

"Well, I think it's sexy, especially the way the little hairs on your neck tickle me when you know … well you know," she stumbled over her words in a giggle as she stroked the outline of my beard.

Yes, I did know and couldn't help but grin with a flushed face. "How could I forget, Clark?" It was also natural that whatever Louisa found pleasing to her tastes my mum would not. "Did you know my mum hates facial hair on me?"

"All the more to keep it then," she quipped back quickly in a flirty voice and giving me her bedroom eyes, swaying side to side in front of her bed with her arms folded behind her back and looking very sexy.

It was hard for me to keep my hands off her. That beaming smile. That come hither look. Those little outfits. That bare shoulder. The smell of her skin. The taste of her lips. That watermelon lip gloss.

I drew her close to me and kissed her bare shoulder. "Do you want me to keep it, Clark?"

"Uhhhh…. Mmmhmmm!" she giggled with a nod.

"Ok, if you want me to," I whispered back, kissing her lips softy. "Say you'll come with me this morning."

She broke out in laughter, she was on to me. "Will Traynor, are you trying to seduce me to come?"

"I am. Is it working?" I boyishly asked awaiting her reply, grinning that she already knew me so well.

"No," she howled in laughter.

I insisted she come. I wanted her there, and I wanted to share everything with her. "Please?"

Louisa grimaced and self-consciously looked down at herself in her sweats, grabbing the sides of her undone hair, and burying her head in my chest let out a muffled but exasperated cry. ""Ohhhhhh! Whhhhhyyyyyy?" She was intent on making excuses not to go. " I'll slow you down." "I can't really help you being there. Isn't that why you're bringing Treen?" "I don't know anything about the building and maintenance of ice skating rinks." "I really can't go looking like this. My hair is a curly mess."

I positioned her away from my body an arms length from me, my hands on her shoulders, and looking directly into her eyes I promised her that she wouldn't feel out of place. "I love your hair curly. Whoever told you it looked like a mess has shit for brains." A reference to Running Man of course.

Her eyes widened as she stared at me incredulously. "That may very well be the case, but I didn't even put any product in it this morning after I showered. I let it air dry. I'd have to braid it, which would take time. Or flat iron it, which would take some time too. You know I have a lot of hair."

Excuses, excuses I thought. "You look beautiful!"

"Of course you'd say that. You're my boyfriend," she reasoned aloud.

"Not true, Clark. Being one's boyfriend is not a standard for expected politeness. You of all people should know that."

My attempt at being witty and sarcastic backfired. I knew the minute those words came out of my mouth that they didn't come out the way they were meant to, and I immediately regretted them. Arse. Louisa was rightfully floored. Her lips parted and formed into the shape of an O, emitting not a sound, and they stood that way for what felt like eternity. I found myself backpedaling and fast, trying to clean up my mess. I knew what she was thinking, and it was bad.

"Clark, no. It was a criticism of Running Man not you. My words … my words didn't t come out as I intended. I just meant to compare him to me. Me to him. That's all. If I say you look beautiful, I mean it. I wouldn't say it otherwise. I'm sorry for my sloppy delivery."

"I knew what you meant, Will Traynor. You can be truly awful sometimes! Do you know that?"

"I do, Clark. I wish I had better expressed myself. I didn't any offense."

"None taken, but I still don't feel comfortable going looking like this. I'd have to first figure out something to wear, then change and do something with this hair. I really would slow you down or worse make you look so unprofessional you miss your whole meeting. Who wants to do business with someone flakey or blows people off. What do they say? Time is money?"

"Yes, that is what they say, but Clark I'm going in what I'm dressed in. I'm not changing." I looked down at myself dressed in a pair of jeans and a sweater over a blue gingham shirt with my old pair of Vans. I tried to entice her further in hopes of appealing to her sense of sibling rivalry, something I knew she couldn't pass up – her sister the one out of place and looking like the fool. "Come, if only to prove me right about Treena. Please? I want you there with me." I couldn't emphasize that enough to her.

Louisa hesitated briefly before responding. I could tell she was entertaining my invite and giving it some serious consideration now.

"Treen looking out of place?"

"Yep."

"Are you sure?"

"Yep."

"And you're going as is?"

"Yep, that's what I said. Now will you please come with me?"

The corners of her mouth began to curl upwards into a smile. "Ok then, I'll come. If you want me to."

I grinned from ear to ear, finally satisfied that she had decided to accompany me. The truth was that although business was business, sometimes cut and dry, sometimes perfunctory as hell, sometimes frustrating during negotiations and exhilarating in closing deals, I wanted her to come to see the work I was doing and to be proud of me. She was after all my muse, my inspiration for everything I did. It made sense to include her. In hindsight I wish I had told her that from the beginning. But I had other things on my mind. Other more physical things first …

I was never more thankful that I had the foresight to send Treena ahead to greet our business associates just in case they arrived early as I now found myself engrossed in nibbling on Louisa's neck and exposed shoulder once she agreed to join me.

"You really find the beard sexy, Clark?" I hummed between kisses, blowing on her skin.

"Mmmmhmmm," she giggled raucously before falling speechless, her mouth agape in twisted shock as I quickly turned to lock the door. I murmured something along the lines of not making the same mistake again, i.e. the morning's interruption by one Katrina Clark, and took Louisa by surprise immediately pulling her back into my arms and resuming where I left off. My agile hands gravitated underneath her sweatshirt to her breasts, this time effortlessly unlatching the front closure of her bra, my action met with a gasp.

"Will! Your meeting!"

"I'll be quick, Clark. In and out in no time."

My poor choice of words had Louisa this time cackling in hysterics. "I can't believe you just said that!"

"I'll set the timer on my mobile. I'll be quick. "

"You and I are _never_ quick!"

"There's always a first! Remember you never thought you could be quiet either."

"Well, I didn't _want_ to be quiet. I just _had_ _to_ you know … well you know with my family," her voice trailing off after stumbling over her words. She gestured a slight nod downwards indicating the floor below and finished her sentence in a whisper. "Sleeping beneath us." Recovering from an awkward moment of guilt, she admitted she did it out of necessity. "I wanted what I wanted when I wanted it."

"Exactly, Clark! And," I argued bobbing my head yes, "We can be quick out of _necessity_ now too! No?"

"No!" she cried out bursting into laughter, insisting we not keep Treena waiting. "Trust me, we'll never hear the end of it. And, if you're a good boy, I'll give you your surprise early." My head sprang up in anticipation.

"Surprise you say?"

"Right in that last closet. I made it myself."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Nighty with strappy ties?" I excitedly yelped, my eyes widened with anticipated glee.

"Umm … well … ummmmm …I don't want to spoil it," Louisa coyly cooed teasing me. "It's a bit of a costume."

The images that sprang to my mind, the endless possibilities. She made me promise not to steal a peek when all I wanted to do was tear the closet door open. "Let it be a surprise," she calmly reminded me with a cheshire smile. "Let it be a surprise."

I didn't want it to be a surprise. I wanted to know or at least be given a hint to fantasize about in the meantime. "And when am I going to see this _c-o-s-t-u-m-e?_"

"Soon," she teased further. "Soon."

"Soon when? You can't tell a man that and leave him hanging, Clark?"

"Make your meeting now, and I'll put on a show for you … ummmm … yes Friday night. After the first village Trunk or Treat. The first night we've officially moved in together."

"That's in 2 days."

"Yes, 2 days. Why?"

"2 too many days you see, Clark!"

"I _think_," that little giggling minx choosing her words carefully went on to tell me," I think_ you'll live, Will Traynor. _You'll make it 'til then. I have every confidence in you."

"But what if I don't want to wait?"

"You'll have to. You have no say," she stated matter- of-fact like an evil genius temptress. She peeled my fingers one-by-one off her naked breast as her sweatshirt fell back against her chest, and straightening out my clothes with both her hands, she offered my only hint. "I have it all planned out. Down to _every_ _little_ detail. And you're going to like it. _Really_ like it. I'm sure of it."

And if that wasn't enough to make me salivate, before leaving Louisa Clark had one last matter to attend to. "Just a moment." She took a pen to a post-it note, and giggling like a hyena, paused to rather her thoughts then exclaimed, "Oh, I know!" When she was done scribbling, she tacked 2 post-its to the last closet door. One read: "Stay out. All good things come to those who wait!" The other said more about her confidence in me and read: "I'm not sure I can trust you, Will Traynor! I'm not sure I can trust you! Not a peek."


	68. Chapter 68

**CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT**

As promised the only one overdressed that morning was Treena Clark in her power suit and "borrowed" red pumps, but the day was just beginning to get interesting. There were many, many surprises in store for me and Louisa. Some good. Some bad. One, in particular, that I hadn't anticipated which proved to be a great challenge for the two of us and that this time had nothing at all to do with her ex or the machinations of my mum. The thing is I had no idea how my gesture to include her could go so terribly wrong. But first there was Louisa's bizarre request on the car ride over and then … and _then_ there was Treena …

Louisa was oddly quiet in the car ride over to the ice skating rink, which only meant one thing.

"Clark, what's on your mind?"

"How did you know something was on my mind?"

"Because I know you. You're usually _chatty_. So let's hear it. Are you going to tell me or not?"

"Ok, but it's going to sound crazy, and I don't know how you'll feel about it."

"We'll never know if you don't tell me, so get on with it, Clark."

"Well … um … ok then. Will, have we got shades for the bedroom?"

"I don't know, Clark. You chose everything. Did we?"

"Hmmmmmmmmm …. I don't think so. No, no. Definitely not. No."

"Do we _need_ shades? We have a beautiful view overlooking the Castle morning, noon and night."

"Right. Right. Yeah, yeah of course."

"But?"

"YES, EXACTLY!" She acted as though I had hit the nail on the head, that I had indeed known what she was talking about when in fact I did not.

"Exactly what, Clark?"

"Ummmm … my boodle is all."

"Your boodle?"

"Ummm … my bum."

"Ok. Now explain."

"Ummmm … boodle is a cute word for bum. That's what Treena and I call Thomas's cute little tushe."

"Yes, I got that, Clark. But what does that have to do with window dressings?"

"Ummmm … well, when I was decorating the stables, I just thought I was helping you. I didn't realize you meant for me to live there with you as our home."

"Ok. And ….?"

"It was … well," she hesitated before finishing her thought as a whisper. "_Before_ _we_ _started_ _having_ _sex_."

"Clark, why are you whispering?" I whispered back to her. "There's no one in the car but you and me."

"Right. Right. Right."

"Ok, so out with it," I laughed, not knowing where this peculiar conversation was heading but couldn't wait to find out.

"Well, I'm just … _concerned."_

I kept my eyes on the road. _"Concerned?" _

"Yeah, I mean I'm a bit self-conscious of being … on display. My bum bobbing back and forth and back and forth and…,"

I cut her off and finished her sentence. "Back and forth. Yes, I know. I was there for all of it, remember?"

"Yeah," she winced, shaking her head yes.

"You do have a lovely, little bum, Clark."

"Thank you," she hummed softly, almost embarassed by my compliment when each of us was already well-acquainted with one another's bodies.

"I see your point, Clark."

"Good. Good," she shook her head yes with her eyes pinned wide open and her eyebrows raised to the heavens.

"You do realize it's private property though, don't you? It's gated _in_. And _our bedroom _looks down _into_ the gardens."

"Yeah well you never know who's around."

"Are you worried about voyeuristic squirrels sneaking a peek at our windowsill?"

"Will Traynor! I'm serious! Trespassers. Staff." She began to ramble almost incoherently, her arms flailing. "Binoculars from yonder!"

"Binoculars from yonder? Really, Clark?" I laughed.

"What about your mum?!"

"My mum?! I think my mum's the last person who wants to watch us have sex."

"Yeah, but what about her spies?"

"I don't think her cook or maid will be donning boots and climbing through the brush to get a look at us enjoying one another's company. Do you?"

"It's possible. One just needs telescopic lenses or a really, really powerful zoom. And you know they make all kinds of apps for stuff these days!"

"Ok," I humored her with a smile, politely nodding. "How about we get motion detector lights if you're so worried, and we'll scatter them throughout the grounds outside our bedroom window in case anyone's around?"

"What?! And have my bum and lady parts lit up on full display every time a bird flies into a tree! Oh God no! No. No. No."

"Clark, you're being paranoid," I hooted unable to contain my laughter. She could be silly and neurotic, but she was far more important to me than having a stupid argument over window dressings.

"Ok."

"Okay, what?"

"_If _you feel _more_ comfortable with shades we'll get shades."

"Really?"

"Yes, If you must, Clark."

"You really don't mind? I know you had your heart set on seeing the Castle in the background … you know when _we_ _make_ _love .._. _and other stuff," _her voice cracked as she neared the completion of her sentence.

"It's fine," I quickly turned my head to give her a reassuring smile.

"Oh Will! Thank you. _Thank_ _you_. It really does make me feel more comfortable. Really does. You won't even know the shades are there most of the time. I'll make a longer valance and keep the shades hidden when they're not _in use_, and I'll put up billowy white sheers to make it _really, really_ romantic. I'll make it work. You'll see," she cheerfully explained before a giggling fit took strong hold over her. "You know I'm feeling _quite_ randy right now. Is it weird I'm turned on by the fact we're going to get shades to conceal my nakedness from the world outside our new home?"

"Weird, yes. Turned on, no," I responded feeling quite randy myself now. "You know, Clark, we can always go back home and lock the attic door? Just give me the word, and I'll turn the car around right now."

"No," she sighed disappointed, her whole diaphragm sinking as she returned her sister's wave just as we pulled up across the street from our destination. "Treen just saw us. Too late now."

With the shades issue now resolved, things were about to take an unexpected turn, and to both my astonishment and Treena's I was apparently beginning to rub off on my girlfriend …


End file.
